Fire and Ice
by Mindless Creations
Summary: They were like fire and ice, two souls colliding with a passion so strong it nearly destroyed them. Now, six years later, are they ready to try again, to face the past in order to secure a future? One thing is sure, when fire meets ice, the sparks will fly. This story contains M/F adult disciplinary spanking - don't like, don't read! JIBBS
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my new story.**

 **Warnings and Disclaimers - Please Read**

 **1\. This story contains adult M/F disciplinary spanking. If this is not your thing, abort now!**

 **2\. This story is VERY AU. Apart from somewhat following episode cannon, the disciplinary relationship between Jenny and Gibbs is purely fictional.**

 **3\. I do not own any of the characters.**

 **4\. All mistakes are my own.**

 **5\. I am Australian and will occasionally use words that may be uniquely Australian. I try to use US terminology, particularly when the characters are speaking, but occasionally I forget. Apologies in advance.**

 **I plan to develop this story slowly, building the relationship between Gibbs and Jenny. For those of you who have read my other stories, you will know I like to explore and focus on the dynamics of personal relationships. I have always loved the interaction between Gibbs and Jenny and it's been a desire of mine to write a spanking story surrounding those two characters. While the story, particularly in later chapters, does contain some of the elements and practices of Domestic Discipline, I won't define this story as purely DD but, rather, as a love story that embraces disciplinary spankings between a consenting adult man and woman.**

 **This story embodies all that is 'fanfction'. It is pure fantasy. A figment of my imagination. These characters are not real nor do they completely represent the characters as created by CBS. I have tried to encompass as much of their personality as possible however, due to the disciplinary nature of this work of fiction, there will be times when the characters will appear very AU.**

 **For those of you who enjoy spanking stories, I hope you will read and review.**

 ***Dialogue in the first section is taken from Season Three Episode 1 - Kill Ari , Part 1**

Chapter 1

As much as he respected the man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs had far more pressing things on his mind and, discussing with the Director of NCIS the political fallout of capturing Ari Haswari verses killing him, was not one of them. Tom Morrow was a fair man, a man Gibbs ultimately respected but, right now, his focus was on avenging Kate's death. He personally didn't give a damn about the politics.

Watching the unknown mission unfold on the big screen in MTAC, Gibbs was vaguely aware of what Morrow was saying. He knew Ari was guilty as sure as he knew Kate was dead. He really didn't see the point of this discussion. That was, until Morrow's next sentence penetrated his silent musings with forced awakening.

"You're not my problem anymore, Jethro."

"You firing me Sir?" asked Gibbs, wondering if, after all this time, someone actually had the balls to do it.

He'd crossed many lines in his time at NCIS, a trait well learned from his early days as 'Probie' to Special Agent Mike Franks. But Gibbs was never one to back down or apologize for his decisions. Wasn't that one of his rules; Don't apologize, it's a sign of weakness. He'd taken that one from Franks who, in turn, had taken it from John Wayne. It had served him well over the years and he saw no point in denying it now.

But, no; as he listened to Tom Morrow he quickly devised he wasn't about to be fired. Instead the man was explaining his own transfer to Homeland Security. Gibbs felt a familiar churn begin to stir in his gut. He hated change and he especially hated change in the lead command. For all his talk on protocol and politics, Tom Morrow understood Gibbs. He had climbed the ranks during the agency's NIS days and, over the years, had been willing to overlook some of Frank's and, now Gibbs' unorthodox ways of 'getting the job done'.

It was therefore with slight trepidation that Gibbs' asked, "Who will be replacing you, Sir?"

The smirk on Morrow's face had Gibbs' suddenly turning pale.

"Not me, Sir!" he spluttered.

His fears were immediately alleviated as Morrow chuckled softly.

"As much as I like you, Jethro, I would not shoot NCIS in the head!"

Showing no signs of being offended by a statement that could easily have been taken as a slight against his unconventional methods, Gibbs leaned back in his seat, relief flooding his very being.

Catching Morrow's unmistakable smirk as the former Director moved towards the front row of seats, Gibbs' gut suddenly went into a spin. Who the hell had been appointed as the Director that would cause Morrow to react in such a way? Gibbs mentally checked off a list of high ranking nemesis's that could possibly fill the position, none of which brought any joy to his already spinning head.

His thoughts were interrupted when Tom said clearly, "He's your problem now, Director."

A petite figure slowly rose from one of the front seats. Although she hadn't turned to face him yet, Gibbs didn't need to see the face to know exactly who it was. He knew that body better than his own. Hadn't he caressed every curve? Kissed every inch? Ran his fingers countless times through the thick auburn locks? But, despite all that, it still didn't stop him from gasping slightly as she turned around. It may have been six years since they'd last faced each other but the moment their eyes locked it was as if time had stood still.

He stared as the beautiful red lips slowly parted. Lips he found intoxicating, begging to be kissed.

"Hello Jethro."

His name on those lips. He'd almost forgotten what it sounded like. Almost…

Instantly transported to a different time and place, Gibbs couldn't help the flashbacks that played in his mind like an old movie reel. Heat, passion, lust. Lovemaking so intense he thought he would die with it.

His thoughts were interrupted when she spoke again.

"Shall we skip the 'you haven't changed a bit' bull."

Gibbs smirked. It was just like her to open with a quip. Never one to mince her words, Gibbs had loved her for her honesty.

He cocked his head slightly before responding.

"Why start lying to each other now, Jen," he replied.

God, how did he manage to keep his voice so level, calm, unperturbed? Surely she could hear his heart thudding against his chest, see the way his eyes dilated with longing from just a glimpse of her.

"Any problem taking orders from me?"

Her question was serious and he knew why. Their relationship had been…unorthodox to say the least.

"As a Director or as a woman?" he asked, taunting her, reminding her of their past.

She didn't flinch however, but stared directly at him. Her strength obvious, her determination tangible.

"Either," she said coolly.

Damn those eyes, he thought. Even now they captivated him.

Employing a casual attitude, he shrugged slightly before rising to greet her.

"It was six years ago," he said dismissively. "The past won't be a problem."

Liar, he berated himself as he made his way to the front of the room where she stood. Now, within inches of her beautiful frame, he couldn't help the smile that crossed his face.

He wanted to embrace her, tell her how beautiful she was, tell her not a day had gone by where he didn't think of her and what they'd had, tell her how angry and hurt he'd been when she'd left him and, ultimately, tell her he'd forgive her in a heartbeat if only they could pick up where they'd left off.

But none of that would be appropriate.

And so, aware of the listeners around them, he said the one thing that would convey his meaning without demeaning her position.

"You were a damn good agent, Jen…." His eyes suddenly smoldered with ambiguous intent. "Especially undercover."

Despite the dim lighting of the room, Gibbs couldn't help but notice the deep blush that adorned Jenny's cheeks. Oh yes, he thought triumphantly, his meaning had hit home.

"Jethro…" The tone both rebuked and welcomed.

Gibbs stared at the woman before him. She had been a probie, _his_ probie and now, here she stood before him, Director of NCIS. A surge of pride pulsated through his body and bubbled forth as he quietly addressed her with the respect she deserved.

"Madam Director."

****NCIS****

With her own agenda firmly in place, Jenny Shepard had not been surprised when she'd received the call informing her she was now the new Director of NCIS. Hadn't she spent the last seven years planning for this? Fast tracking her career without thought of the sacrifices she was making. Were there regrets? Hell yes! But Jenny Shepard didn't allow herself the luxury of wallowing in regrets. They only hindered her plans and slowed her progress.

But now, as she stared at the document before her, she couldn't help but acknowledge the stab of apprehension that pierced her conscience. She was about to come face to face with her biggest regret and she knew there'd be no avoiding it.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Even his name sent shivers down her spine. For six years she'd managed to push all thoughts of him aside, focusing her attention, instead, on the goals she'd set. Well, that's what she told herself. And she'd done a pretty damn good job of convincing herself he no longer mattered to her. That was until the reality of her new position hit her like a ton of bricks. Glancing over the contract in front of her, she felt the familiar jolt of fear and excitement bubble to the surface. This position, this dream job she had worked so hard to achieve, would put her in direct contact with the one man whose very name conjured feelings she had managed to suppress for six years.

Was she willing to open that Pandora's box?

She had to, she told herself. It was the only way of enacting her revenge. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and picked up the silver engraved pen. She stared at the initials, JS. Jasper Shepard, _Colonel_ Jasper Shepard. She felt the familiar tingle in the corner of her eye that surfaced whenever she thought of him. Her father had meant the world to her. So when his life had been taken, stolen by a worthless, vicious arms dealer, Jenny had vowed she would see his death avenged. Pulling the document closer to the edge of the desk, she held the pen over the place which required her signature. A signature that would see her become the first female director of the agency she had known since she was a small child.

Smiling to herself, she thought back to the day she'd first met Gibbs. As Tom Morrow had handed her the probationary badge, he'd explained that she would be assigned to Gibbs' team. She'd heard rumors about this man, but, up until this point, had managed to avoid actually meeting him. She'd also heard rumors about Stan Burley, Gibbs' 2IC. Frowning at the thought of having to work with Burley, she realized Morrow was staring at her reaction. Incorrectly interpreting her frown as apprehension towards Gibbs, he had quickly assured her that, despite the man's unorthodox ways, he was damn good agent and she'd do well to listen and learn all she could.

Prickling at the authoritative tone, Jenny had straighten herself to her full height of 5ft 8inches, four inches of which were thanks to the stiletto heels she was currently wearing, and lifted her head confidently.

"I'm sure Agent Gibbs and I will get along just fine," she'd said trying to hide the annoyance she'd felt at being treated as though she should count herself lucky she'd even been accepted into the predominantly male world that was NCIS.

Slightly taken aback by the young woman's words, Director Morrow had raised one eyebrow in an expression of surprise. He disguised the involuntary smirk the crept upon his face by distracting them both as he stepped out from behind his desk. He had fully intended to dismiss her from his office, allowing her to find her own way to the squad room. However, with her words still echoing in his memory, he'd changed his mind choosing, instead, to personally introduce her to Agent Gibbs. He had been amused by her attitude and, if he were truly honest with himself, was quite keen to see how Gibbs would take to his new 'probie'. Her ability to stand up for herself impressed him and he knew, if she managed to survive more than thirty seconds under Gibbs' command, she would make a great field agent. His only concern was who would kill who first.

Taking the central staircase that lead to the squad room, Morrow reached the ground floor and turned abruptly into the small nook that was Gibbs' domain. Four neatly placed desks, only two of which were currently in use, faced each other giving the appearance of a well run, well organised work space. And, for the most part, it was. Having just lost Chris Pacci to the New York Office and Steve Davidson to legal, Tom was very aware of the gap that needed filling. He knew Gibbs had been gunning for two agents. When Tom had delivered the news that he'd be training a probie, Gibbs had said nothing at first, merely rolling his eyes in response. However, when there had been no mention of a second, more experienced Agent to accompany the probie, Gibbs hadn't hesitated to let the Tom know exactly how he felt about this.

"I need at least two experienced Agents on my team, Tom," demanded Gibbs, when Morrow had broken the news. "A probie's fine, but Burley can't do everything while I'm spending time playing wet nurse to some young buck that doesn't know one end of gun to the other. Burley's hard pressed making sure his credentials are the right way up half the time."

"Burley's come along way, Gibbs," Tom had replied. "And that's thanks to you. Training up someone new won't take long and trust me, this one's a fast learner."

He'd paused here, wondering how to approach the next piece of information.

"And…er….this one isn't a buck, Gibbs," he'd said with some apprehension.

"Huh?"

Gibbs' look of confusion didn't last long before understanding dawned.

"Oh that's just great Sir," he'd said with annoyance. "As if Burley isn't distracted easily enough as it is. Please tell me she's had a mid life career change, in her forties, rather plain but good at her job."

"Afraid not, Jethro," Morrow had said, chuckling a little. "Late twenties, beautiful, smart, strong willed and determined. Just how you like them."

As Gibbs leveled him a withering look, Tom smirked and turned to leave delivering the last piece of information as a parting gift.

"Oh, and she's a red head."

Now, turning left into Gibbs' area, Tom didn't have to wait long before the Senior Agent's sharp senses picked up the movement. Gibbs' eyes first acknowledged Tom then immediately focused on the young woman almost running to keep up with the pace of the Director's step.

"Gibbs, Stan."

Morrow greeted both men before stepping aside to introduce his companion.

"Gibbs, this is Probationary Officer Jennifer Shepard. As per my memo yesterday, she'll be joining your team as of today."

Jenny held out her hand and found it firmly engulfed in a far larger and more calloused one than her own.

"Jenny," she amended. "I've heard a lot about you Agent Gibbs. Your reputation precedes you."

The seasoned Agent merely raised an eyebrow as he took in his new team member. Gazing over the length of her, his eyes lingered on her feet, taking in the four inch heels.

"They'll need to go," he said curtly. "You can pick up a pair of boots from dispatch as soon as we're done here."

Jenny bristled slightly but remained composed.

"I can assure Agent Gibbs," she said, her smile belying her annoyance. "I'm more than capable of walking, running, jumping and anything else you may require, while wearing heels. They won't be a problem."

Without a second glance, Gibbs turned and picked up a file from his desk.

"They're a problem for me. Change them or leave."

His tone was unyielding and Jenny felt her hackles rise. However, not wanting to make a scene on her first day, she merely nodded and, avoiding the subject all together, looked towards Burley.

"Stan Burley," introduced Gibbs, his no nonsense attitude continuing.

Jenny's hand was taken once again. This time however, the palm that touched hers was softer and, to her disdain, slightly damp with perspiration. She also didn't appreciate the rather enthusiastic way in which the second man cast his eyes over her.

"Close your mouth Burley," barked Gibbs. "She's off limits."

"Yes Boss," replied a rather chagrined Burley, blushing slightly at the reprimand.

Jenny rolled her eyes. She'd had to endure men like Burley during her training but she knew how to handle them. He wasn't the first and he certainly wouldn't be the last.

Turning back to face Gibbs she found, he too, was staring at her. But, unlike Burley's sexual leer which Jenny had grown to expect from male counterparts, Gibbs' expression was completely different. His blue eyes bore into her, making her feel as if her very soul was on display. And it unnerved her. She was used to being in control, confident and self assured but this man had the ability to see right through her.

Crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt at self protection, Jenny pursed her lips and refused to feel intimidated. Leroy Jethro Gibbs had definitely unsettled her and she had no idea why. Determined to not let him see she was slightly rattled by his presence, Jenny tossed her head slightly and eyed him with all the confidence she could muster.

"Which desk is mine?" she asked.

Gibbs indicated, with a nod of his head, the desk directly opposite his own.

"That one," he replied bluntly.

Tilting her head slightly, Jenny gave the area a quick 'once over', before stepping towards the desk and tossing her bag on the wooden surface.

"Well, I'll leave you in Gibbs capable hands then, Agent Sheperd."

Tom Morrow's voice took her by surprise. She'd completely forgotten he was even there.

"Yes, thank you Director," she replied politely, catching his eye and smiling warmly.

She watched as Tom and Gibbs exchanged a meaningful glance, before Morrow turned and left the area. Leaning against her newly acquired desk, Jenny let out a small imperceptible breath and, for the first time since she'd embarked on her journey to avenge her Father's death, wondered what she'd got herself into. She had not, before, encountered anyone like Leroy Jethro Gibbs and she certainly never anticipated feeling the way he had just made her feel.

Schooling her face into one of determination and self assuredness, Jenny Shepard took a deep breath and straightened her back.

"So," she said lightly, trying to regain what confidence she had lost. "What would you like me to do?"

Without a word, Gibbs walked around his desk and took a seat. Picking up his phone, he punched in a few numbers and waited with the receiver pressed against his ear. Finally, giving her a dismissive glance, he raised his eyebrows and barked out a single word - "Boots!" - before turning his attention back to the call he'd just made.

Glowering in his direction, Jenny recrossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Then, with as much dignity as she could muster, Probationary Agent Jenny Shepard strode past the two occupied desks and made her way to the elevator, hitting the button with a little more force than usual and prayed to whatever God there may be, that her time with this infuriating man would pass quickly.

The sound of a pen softly hitting paper pulled Jenny abruptly from her musings. Realizing she was grinning like a Cheshire cat, she looked down and gave her current powder blue, four inch heels an appreciative glance. She had eventually won the war of the shoes with Gibbs although, not without losing a few battles along the way and it made her smile just thinking about it.

But, she sighed, that was now in the past. She had relinquished her rights to enjoy those memories the day she had picked up a pen and started a letter with the words 'Dear Jethro'.

And so, with a different pen, and a very different intent, she picked up the silver ball point and refocused her attention on the document in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she scratched out her signature on the dotted line, signing away all her self promises of never seeing Gibbs again.

****NCIS****

With the only source of light in the room coming from the flickering screen, Jenny smiled at Gibbs. He had just acknowledged her title with pride and, despite her dislike of the word 'Madam', she felt the familiar flutter of joy she used to feel whenever Gibbs had looked at her that way.

Staring at him she was hit with a clear and simple reality. The question was simple. Was she, Jenny Shepard, newly appointed Director of NCIS, ready to confront the past in order for her to face the future? Was she ready to once again work alongside the only man she had ever truly loved? The one man who had fulfilled her every desire, every need...everything? The man whose eyes spoke nothing but honesty and reflected her own image much like a mirror, forcing her to face her own truths?

The answer didn't come easily, nor did it come clearly. The fact was, Jenny had no idea how to adequately answer those questions. As she turned to lead Gibbs out of MTAC and begin her first day as Director, she knew only one thing for certain. All her previous thoughts, believing she had eradicated this man from her heart and healed all past hurts, had been nothing but lies, an attempt to cover up what her head now realized was a massive, gaping, festering wound.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: A massive 'thank you' for the follows, favorites and especially the reviews. You have no idea how much they inspire me to continue.**

 **An Australian Adventure will be updated next. I wanted to get this story up and running, hence the two chapters in a row.**

 **Hope you enjoy and please review if you get chance.**

 ****Dialogue in Gibbs basement is taken directly from Season 3, Episode 1, Kill Ari, Part 1.**

Chapter 2

Try as he might, Gibbs' struggled to avert his eyes from the beautiful, shapely legs that protruded from the navy skirt. Sitting provocatively, one leg crossed over the other, he hadn't missed the relaxed way in which she'd unbuttoned the pin striped jacket revealing the mint green figure hugging shirt underneath. God, even the way she handled the sander was enough to make his trousers tighten in a most uncomfortable manner. She'd casually followed him down to the basement, their continued discussion regarding Ari Haswari momentarily put on hold while Gibbs searched for the information he needed to pass onto Abby. Sifting through a small pile of papers, he hadn't missed the way she'd surreptitiously eyed the stool in the corner. He'd caught her slight hesitation before she'd lowered herself on the wooden seat and, suppressing a smirk, wondered whether her reluctance was due, in part, to the rather unpleasant way in which they had routinely employed that particular piece of furniture.

"Is this the same boat you were building six years ago?"

Her voice held an air of familiarity, a warmth that traversed the years of separation. She looked so 'at home' sitting there, it could have been yesterday she'd last perched herself on that stool and watched as he methodically sanded the boat he'd been working on.

"Nope," he replied, striding towards her.

Stopping just in front of her, his eyes caught the navy heel that dangled from her crossed leg. Ah… those heels, he thought to himself. They'd been a source of contention between them from the very first day.

****NCIS****

Standing inside the elevator, Jenny looked at the row of buttons that waited expectantly to be pushed. Shit, she thought, she had no idea where dispatch was. Her exit from the squad room had already appeared like that of a surly teenager being dismissed to her room, the last thing she wanted to do now was skulk back to 'his' desk in order to ask for directions.

"Garage!"

Feeling her cheeks redden with humiliation as his barked command had heads raised in her direction, Jenny spied the button marked 'garage' and slammed her finger on it, wishing the elevator was capable of taking her a million miles away rather than just the next floor. God! Not only was he infuriating, he was apparently psychic as well.

As the elevator shuddered into operation, Jenny leaned against the wall. Great start Shepard, she rebuked herself sarcastically. Smooth exit! She didn't know why he'd rattled her so easily. He hadn't been overtly rude. Maybe it was just the way he oozed masculinity, pulsated authority through every pore. And damn, did he have to be so good looking. God, those piercing blue eyes were like ice; the way they'd scrutinized her after being introduced. But there had been no disrespect, no derogation and Jenny had found this refreshing. Unlike Burley, whose lustful leer had been exactly what she'd had come to expect, Gibbs' gaze had sought beyond the physical. And it unnerved her. She didn't want him seeing more than the practiced persona she happily displayed.

Taking a deep, calming breath as the elevator announced its arrival with a loud 'ding', Jenny braced herself before entering the garage.

Standing in front of the large screen, Gibbs stared at the three faces displayed. It was the middle one which held his attention; Bradley Simons, otherwise known as Blade owing to his superlative skills with a hunting knife. He was a sadistic bastard who had a penchant for playing with his victims before killing them. They'd been tracking him for months and, finally, after an anonymous tip off, they had him in their sights.

"You tracked down that cell phone number yet?"

Stan Burley looked up from his desk.

"Nearly Boss," he replied. "Just waiting on a call from Davis."

"When?" barked Gibbs.

"Ah…any minute. They were…"

Burley's next words were cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Turning back to the screen as the young agent answered the call, Gibbs' stared again at Simons. His last two victims had been navy personal bringing him to the team leader's attention. However, with the recent departures of Pacci and Davidson, Gibbs was feeling the pressure. They'd connected Simons to the gruesome deaths of six young women and Gibbs was hell bent on seeing him captured before there was even a chance of a number seven.

With Burley's full concentration now centered on the call he was taking, Gibbs strode away from the screen and towards his own desk. Taking a seat, he picked up a pen and was about to jot something down when his attention was drawn to the reappearance of Jenny Shepard. As she passed Burley's desk, Gibbs' eyes were immediately drawn to the ridiculously impractical shoes that still adorned her feet. Given a different set of circumstances, he would have appreciated the effect of the impossibly high heels; the way which they lengthen the slim legs and accentuated the rounded calves but Gibbs had given this young woman a direct order and he'd damn well expected her to follow it.

"I gave you choice, Shepard," he said gruffly. "Change the shoes or leave. Can I assume you've chosen the latter?"

"No, Agent Gibbs," she replied coolly, returning his glare with, what he deduced, was a look of indifference. "I did as you asked. However, apparently they don't have anything in my size left."

Gibbs continued to stare at the young woman who stood before him, brazenly meeting his glare without a hint of intimidation. It impressed him. She had achieved in less than an hour something Burley was still unable to do after three years.

"Then we have a problem," stated Gibbs. "While you're on my team, you will not go out in the field wearing….those."

The last word held a distinct note of distain and was punctuated by a nod clearly directed at the footwear in question.

"As I said earlier, Agent Gibbs, I am more than capable of completing any task required of me while wearing these shoes. Besides," she added, a hint of smugness edging her tone. "It would appear, for the moment at least, you don't have a lot of choice."

Planting both hands firmly on the desk in front of him, Gibbs leaned forward and levelled Jenny with a look that would intimidate even the most hardened of criminals.

"Tomorrow, you wear boots. Do I make myself clear, Probationary Agent Shepard?"

Despite the dangerously low tone with which he spoke, Jenny refused to be rattled. Mirroring his stance by placing her own palms on his desk, she looked up and met his gaze defiantly.

"Crystal, Special Agent Gibbs," she replied.

Then, straightening her body, she turned on one heel and strode the short distance to her own desk, picking up her bag and carrying it around to where the chair awaited. Dumping the bag on the floor, she took a seat and, crossing one slim leg over the other, stared at him expectantly.

Maintaining the glare for a final few, point-defining seconds, Gibbs eventually dropped his gaze to the paper in front of him and tried to resume the task he'd begun just before she'd re-entered the room. However, realising he now had no idea what he'd been going to write earlier, he slammed the pen down on his desk and abruptly stood. Deciding coffee was the only solution right now, he wordlessly left the area and headed to the elevator finally allowing his face to break into the smirk he'd be suppressing for last five minutes.

As the elevator doors opened and Gibbs stepped in, he decided he was going to enjoy his time with Ms Jenny Shepard. He liked a challenge and, if nothing else, she was definitely a challenge.

****NCIS****

"What happened to it?"

Jenny's voice pulled him from his musings, forcing him to take note of what she'd just asked.

"Burned her," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Why would you -" her initial shock gave way to a smug smile as realisation dawned. "You named it after an ex-wife?

Leaning against the workbench, Gibbs decided there and then he was not going to get into this discussion with her now. He'd felt stupid enough at the time having named his pride and joy after Diane, being remind of this stupidity by Jenny was something he could do without.

Flicking off the spotlight, he motioned with his hand for her to move.

"Let's go," he said with slight frustration.

But Jenny didn't move. Relishing in his embarrassment regarding his perceived lack of judgement, she grinned mischievously, deciding she would milk this for everything she could.

"Which one?" she asked with feigned innocence.

He stopped abruptly and peered out from between the ribs of his latest project.

"You know damn well which one," he growled at her.

His tone of voice immediately took her back and for a split second she lowered her head feeling duly chastised. How often had she sat in that very spot while Gibbs chewed her out regarding some foolhardy act of defiance? She loved that look, the look that told her, in no certain terms, she was pushing her luck. For some, the look brought fear and trepidation but for Jenny it had meant security and love. Even now, it sent her stomach flipping involuntarily and enveloped her in a warm tingling sensation she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Unwilling to let her body embrace the feelings of the past that had so easily resurfaced, she pushed the old longing away and focused on questioning him further, ensuring she maintained the upper hand.

"Why didn't you change the name?" she asked casually, swallowing back a grin.

"Because it wouldn't matter," continued Gibbs gruffly. "Every time I went out on her, I'd think of Diane."

"You could have sold it," she suggested airily.

This time Gibbs raised his eyebrows incredulously.

"And watch some other guy sail off on her?"

Unable to hide her grin any longer, Jenny replied with amusement, "You didn't care who sailed off on Diane."

Her crossed leg bounced with nervous energy as she waited for his response. She knew she was pushing his buttons, but she was enjoying herself too much to stop. Oh, how she'd missed sparring with him, teasing him mercilessly until he'd finally react.

With their gaze held on each other, Jenny waited for his response. When none came, she pushed just a little further.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs," she said slowly. "You are a strange man."

Gibbs stared at her incredulously. For the last couple of minutes he'd listened as she'd baited him and he'd been happy enough to let her play. If he were honest with himself, he'd actually enjoyed watching her eyes dance as she'd teased and taunted him. It had been a long time between drinks and god, how he'd missed her. But, with her latest assessment of him still hanging in the air, he wasn't about to let that one go. Deciding it was time to bite back, he scoffed loudly before retaliating with a comment he knew would get her attention.

As he flicked off another light, he quipped, "You were a good agent, Jen."

"Were?" The anger in her tone was unmistakable.

Bingo, he thought. Right on target!

As she stood and began making her way around the boat, he didn't miss the flash of fire that flickered across her eyes. Baiting her was too easy and right now, she deserved to be pulled up on her remark.

"Yeah," he admitted, stopping near another section of boat and glaring at her through the wood. "Director's job is pure politics."

"I'm good at politics," she argued fiercely. "NCIS needs someone who can shake the money tree on the Hill and work with sister agencies."

Rolling his eyes at her willingness to use a feminine reference when _she_ felt it applicable, he interrupted her impassioned dialogue by saying, "Wait, you won't call a boat a 'she', but it's 'sister agencies'?

She leveled him with a look of pure sarcasm as she spat, "I'm a schizoid libber. It comes from working with chauvinists like you!"

Gibbs breathed heavily as his frustration levels steadily escalated. Her knowledge of the English language had always been her strong point, often winning her an argument while she simply baffled him with words and phrases he couldn't understand. And damn, if she didn't have to keep referring to him as a chauvinist. He knew it was true, he'd never denied it, he just didn't like having it thrown in his face, particularly from Jenny and particularly now after everything that had passed between them. How many hours had they spent arguing the point? He couldn't help the way he'd been raised, the way, despite their capabilities, he felt the need to protect and care for women. Hadn't Ducky just said it earlier, _'You and I are a couple of old chauvinists, Jethro. Women will never be equal in our eyes until they are equal in death.'_ He was right of course. Kate's death had made that abundantly clear.

Jenny stared at Gibbs. She knew her remark referring to his being a chauvinist had hit home. Wasn't that why she'd said it? It had always been her favorite fall back insult, simply because he had no means by which to deny it. He was a chauvinist, pure and simple. And yet, despite this, Jenny had never had cause for official complaint. Out in the field she couldn't fault him. He'd expected the same from her as he had from Burley and treated them equally when they'd failed to meet his expectations. Well, almost equally, she thought to herself remembering, again, those first few days…

****NCIS****

"Now, if I'd done that, I'd be seeing stars right about now."

Jenny looked up to see Stan Burley learning casually against her desk. She'd been so infuriated by Gibbs' attitude towards her choice of footwear, she hadn't heard him get up, let alone make his way to her desk.

"What?" she snapped, annoyed by his presence and casual tone.

"I said, 'If I'd done that, I'd be seeing stars," he repeated. When she continued to stare at him quizzically, he demonstrated his meaning by reaching back and slapping himself on the back of the head.

Raising one eye brow, Jenny stared at him.

"He's smacks you on the head?" It wasn't really a question, more a statement of surprise but Stan answered it anyway.

"Sure does," he drawled. "He must be easing you in gently though, seeing as you can still see straight."

Jenny scoffed and was about to reply with something suitably acidic, when Burley added. "I hope this special treatment doesn't continue for much longer. I might start to think of it as favoritism."

Jenny rounded in her seat and glared at the man, wiping the smug smile from his face.

"I wouldn't be too concerned Burley," retorted Jenny, "The only thing it proves is that Gibbs is what I thought he'd be. A chauvinist. Regardless of what he thinks, or anyone else for that matter," she paused to give Stan a pointed look, "I will not be treated any differently. I am just as capable as anyone else. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

She glared as Stan merely raised an eyebrow and slipped quietly back to his desk. Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, she tried to calm her breathing and found herself staring at her shoes. Slowly, an idea came to her. Boots he'd said. Fine! If he wanted boots, she'd damn well give him boots. A smug smile crossed her face as she pictured the exact pair she would wear tomorrow.

Focused on the page in front of him, Gibbs barely registered the tell-tale clipped walk of a woman in heels. Suddenly remembering his parting words to Agent Shepard last night, he felt the anger rise in his chest. Surely not, he thought. He'd figured she'd be stubborn and headstrong but to blatantly disobey a direct order? That he hadn't figured on.

Not even bothering to warrant her with a look, he continued his downward gaze while he spoke.

"I thought I made myself very clear last night, Agent Shepard."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her hesitation and was pleased to see she'd stopped.

"Oh you did, Agent Gibbs."

Her tone was polite, too polite, thought Gibbs. Looking up for the first time, he initially met with her eyes, their fiery stare unwavering. Dropping his gaze, he looked to her feet. Expecting to see another ridiculous pair of feminine heels, he was stunned by what he saw instead.

"You said I had to wear boots," she continued, her self-righteous tone grating on his nerves. "As you can see, I am wearing boots."

As he took in the knee high, fashioned, black leather boot, complete with platform sole and three inch heel, Gibbs surprised himself when he felt an overwhelming desire to laugh. He had ordered her to wear boots and she had complied with his order. He hadn't thought to be more specific, of course he hadn't! It hadn't even occurred to him that she would push the boundary so expertly without actually defying him. But then, he obvious didn't know Jenny Shepard.

Suppressing the smirk that threatened to betray his real feelings, Gibbs lifted his gaze and glared at her intently. He was impressed with her audacity and, dare he admit it, even a little proud. She had him, there was no doubt. Despite being sure she knew exactly what he'd meant when he'd ordered her to wear boots, he couldn't really argue with her. Technically, she was wearing boots.

Fine, he thought. Two can play at this game.

Without giving her the satisfaction of knowing she may have won this round, Gibbs returned his gaze to the papers on his desk, effectively dismissing her without a word.

His phone rang shrilly. Thankful for the distraction, Gibbs picked up the receiver and spoke.

Giving him a final look, Jenny turned and walked to her desk. She sat down and opened her bag, taking out a few personal items and placing them in the draw to her left. She felt rather deflated following her 'win' over the boots. While she hadn't expected a guns drawn showdown, she had hoped for a little more reaction from the man sitting opposite her. Oh well, she thought shrugging off her disappointment, she had managed to make her point. And that, for the time being, would have to do.

"Damn!"

Gibbs' curse had both Stan and Jenny looking up from their desks.

"What is it boss?" asked Burley.

"Grab your gear," ordered Gibbs, ignoring, for the time being, Stan's question.

As Jenny and Stan quickly gathered their backpacks and hurried towards the elevator, they didn't miss the pained expression on Gibbs' face. With a quick glance flashing between them, they stepped inside the metal box just as the doors closed.

"Boss?"

Burley's second attempt to find out what was happening was successful when Gibbs finally spoke.

"Body of a female Petty Officer's been found in Rock Creek Park. One half of a broken heart carved into her left breast."

Stan leaned against the back wall of the elevator and groaned loudly.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath. "I'd thought we get him before number seven."

Noticing Jenny's questioning look, he quickly filled her in on the details of the case.

"So the broken heart's a signature?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. "What does it mean?"

"Damned if I know," growled Gibbs. "But I sure as hell plan to find out."

As they entered the small clearing, Jenny was surprised to see the area crowded with official personnel. Members of the D.C. Police Department stood around with note books while an older gentleman crouched on the ground over what, she assumed, must the body.

"Great!" muttered Gibbs sarcastically. "Local Leo's still hanging around."

As Gibbs strode towards two men in blue, Jenny flicked Burley on the shoulder.

"Local Leo's?" she asked.

"Law Enforcement Officers," supplied Stan. "Gibbs' favorite people!"

Giving him a wry look, Jenny snorted. "I can just imagine," she replied.

As the area cleared of various officials, Gibbs returned to his team.

"Right," he began, his tone commanding. "According to Local Leo's, she's Petty Officer Amanda Freeling, 29 years old. Records indicate she was reported missing three days ago. Ducky estimates T.O.D. around twelve hours ago. Surrounding blood indicates she was killed here. Time between capture and eventual death fits in with Simon's MO and, of course, there's the carving."

Gibbs paused and angrily ran his hand through his hair.

"This is the last one!" he snarled glaring at both Jenny and Stan. "Damned if I'm gonna keep finding bodies. We do this properly to make sure we nail this bastard once and for all."

Jenny watched as Gibbs spoke, not missing the fervent anger with which he assessed the situation. She'd been hearing about these murders on the news, the way the killer tortured his victims before eventually slitting their throats. It'd made her blood run cold. Now, as she stared at the man charged with finding this killer, she felt a sense of security wash over her. Despite barely knowing Gibbs, she instinctively knew he would stop at nothing to see these women's deaths avenged.

She was pulled out of her reverie at the mention of her name.

"Shepard, bag and tag. Do NOT leave anything behind. I don't care if you have to collect every damn leaf and twig from the ground, you make sure you have everything pertinent to this case. Burley, photograph the scene and take measurements. When you're done, help Shepard."

"Yes Boss," replied Stan, opening his bag and pulling out a large SLR camera.

Unable to even think about referring to Gibbs as 'Boss', Jenny said nothing as she hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and headed towards the crime scene.

Noticing again the older gentlemen crouched over the body, Jenny smiled when he looked up. He was a kindly looking man and she was particularly taken with the maroon bow tie he sported.

"Ah my dear," he said, standing to his full height which Jenny noted was equal to her own. "You must be Gibbs' new probationary Agent?"

Bristling at being called Gibbs' anything, Jenny chose to ignore the comment and took, instead the proffered hand.

"Jenny Shepard," she introduced, smiling warmly.

"Donald Mallard, M.E. but, please, call me Ducky. Everyone does."

As they shook hands, Jenny found herself warming immediately to his gentle nature. The English accent, together with the dapper way in which he was dressed, reminded her of a kindly uncle one always has a fondness for.

"So," continued Ducky. "Is it Jennifer or Genevieve?"

Er… Jennifer actually," replied Jenny, slightly taken aback by his question. "Why?"

"Oh, I always think it's important to take the time to address people with their full name. We spend so much of our lives speeding everything up, cramming in as much as we can, shortening our names until we're barely left with even a syllable. Let's just call it my one act of defiance in this fast paced world of ours."

His smile was so genuine, so sincere, Jenny found she couldn't help but return the gesture with one of her own. He was such a refreshing change from the monosyllabic gruffness that was Gibbs.

Opening her bag to take out what she needed, Jenny had so far managed to avoid looking at the body. However, with Ducky crouched once again over the prone figure, Jenny had no choice but to look in that direction in order to maintain eye contact with the M.E. The first thing she saw was the women's face. The eyes, once a deep brown, were now glazed with an unseeing dullness as they stared blankly ahead. Dirt smudged her cheeks and blood congealed on her forehead where two cuts had been roughly made. But it was her mouth that had Jenny reeling in shock. Open and distorted, her final agonized scream forever played on the cold, blue lips.

Jenny turned away and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath she hoped would subdue the queasiness in her stomach.

"Are you all right my dear," asked Ducky.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine…thank you."

Crouching down, Jenny busied herself finding the small yellow tags and evidence bags she would need. She hadn't missed the way Gibbs had glanced in her direction following Ducky's concerned for her well being. Trust him to have super-sonic hearing.

The next hour or so passed quickly as Jenny, Stan and Gibbs gathered the evidence needed, Jenny's task having been made so much easier once Ducky had removed the body.

"Hey Boss?"

Stan's voice carried across the clearing, startling her slightly. She was enjoying the task of searching for evidence, tagging it and moving on to the next object. The methodical routine allowed her chance to be alone with her thoughts, detached from the horror of what had actually taken place in this serene setting.

Without speaking, Gibbs looked up and waited for Burley to continue.

"There's some tracks here. I think it's worth seeing where they lead."

"Yeah, OK," replied Gibbs. Then, nodding in Jenny's direction, he added, "Take Shepard with you."

Standing, Jenny wiped her hands on the denim skirt she was wearing and made her way to the van. Depositing the evidence bags she'd collected, she was just about to follow Burley, when Gibbs intercepted her move.

"Where's your cover, Shepard?"

His gruff tone of manner was lost as Jenny stared at him in confusion.

"My what?"

"Your cover," repeated Gibbs. Then, pointing to his ball cap, clarified by saying, "Hat!"

"Oh," replied Jenny. "Hang on."

Gibbs watched as she made her way around to the front of the van and opened the passenger door. When she re-emerged several minutes later, he noticed she was empty handed.

"Must have forgotten it," she called out to him, slamming the van door.

Rolling his eyes in frustration, Gibbs strode up to her. Taking off his own cap, he placed it roughly on her head.

"Here, use mine," he said gruffly.

It was far too big and obstructed her vision. Lifting it off her head she held it back towards him.

"I'll be fine Gibbs. I'll make sure I have mine tomorrow."

"Yes, you will," retorted Gibbs, bluntly. "But you'll also wear that one while you go with Burley."

Refusing to give her further chance to argue, he ignored the hand that held out his hat and marched back to where he'd been working. Without turning around, he called over his shoulder, "Put it on, Shepard. That's an order."

Jenny glowered after him, cursing his retreating back with every insult she could think of. If it wasn't for the fact he'd said it as an order, she'd have been tempted to throw the damn hat on the ground and leave without it. Instead, she took off after Burley, slamming the offending accessory on her head and spending the next few minutes readjusting it so she could actually see.

"Nice hat," remarked Stan with amusement when she finally caught up to him.

Refusing to take the bait, Jenny glared at the 2IC until he finally looked away and resumed walking.

Stumbling through the undergrowth, Jenny stared ahead at the rugged terrain.

"Where the hell are we going?" she asked Burley, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

"Following the tracks, Jenny," he replied with light-hearted amusement. Pointing ahead he added, "They go this way and so do we!"

Rolling her eyes, Jenny trudged along behind him. Her suspicious mind was in overdrive. It would be just like Gibbs to have deliberately sent her on this little adventure to prove a point regarding her chosen footwear. The track ahead was treacherously steep and uneven. Sections of tree roots pulled at the ground and small rocks became like landmines to her smooth soled leather boots. With her eyes focused downward and using all her concentration to avoid falling on her ass, Jenny didn't see the low hanging branch until it dug painfully into her forehead, snagging the loose cap and sending it catapulting into the high limbs of the next tree.

"Ouch!" she hissed, her hand automatically flying to her forehead to assess the damage. She cursed silently when her hand returned smeared in blood.

"You alright?" called Stan when he'd discovered she'd stopped.

"Yes!" she snapped, the sharp pain heightening her levels of frustration.

When Stan noticed she was still standing upright, he turned back to the path and continued following the half buried tracks.

Angry at her own stupidity of not looking where she was going, Jenny silently berated herself while she looked upwards trying to locate Gibbs' cap. Finally spotting it dangling precariously about fifty foot up a tree, she sighed deeply. There was no way she was climbing after that. Gibbs would just have to find a new hat to wear. Throwing up her arms in a gesture of surrender, Jenny turned away from the forlorn NCIS cap and resumed her precarious trek down what, she felt for sure, must be a cliff's edge.

Twenty minutes later with no sign of stopping, Jenny was beginning to regret her decision to not climb after the cap. The sun beat down on her face and, together with the searing pain from the tree branch attack, her head pounded mercilessly. Having to carefully navigate each step because of her glaringly inappropriate boots certainly wasn't helping matters either. She felt miserable and wished for nothing more than to go home and soak in a hot tub.

Suck it up, Shepard, she rebuked herself, taking a long drink from her water bottle. Staring at the retreating figure of Stan about twenty yards ahead of her, Jenny sighed and replaced the cap on her bottle. She was just about to set off again, when a shard of reflected light caught her attention. Peering between the many branches that meandered down the side of the hill, she wondered what could have caused the sudden flash. With her concentration now fully focused on the trees ahead, Jenny stepped forward only to discover the ground beneath her foot had disappeared.

The next few seconds felt like an eternity as her right leg slipped out from under her sending her body flying backwards. A sudden rush of air was violently expelled as first her backside and then her back crashed heavily onto the hard earth before she slid seventy-five feet down the side of the hill, landing with a sickening thud at the bottom of the embankment. With her eyes staring blankly into the endless blue sky, Jenny groaned softly and rolled gently to her side, praying she had done nothing more sinister than mildly bruising her now throbbing backside. Her eyes caught, again, a flash of reflected light and Jenny realized she was staring into the smooth surface of a golden locket. Blinking twice, she tried to fathom what a locket was doing dangling in mid air until her mind finally caught up with her eyes and Jenny screamed in horror. Scrambling backwards as if the devil himself was after her, she tried desperately to look away from the gruesome sight before her. Leaning, with macabre stillness against the roughened trunk of a tall oak, a decaying corpse stared fixedly ahead. The throat was deeply sliced, almost decapitating the head and, on the left breast, the congealed blood glinting in the sun, was a jagged carving of a broken heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: As I said earlier, this story will develop slowly. In as much as the discipline aspect makes it very AU, I have tried to keep the characters as realistic as possible, along with the situation. It will take time and development before Gibbs gets anywhere close to spanking Jenny. As much as it would be fun to have Gibbs throw Jenny over his knee and spank her on the second day, it's not going to happen, lol! The characters need to develop and build a relationship with each other. I will try to move it along as quickly as I can but please be patient. Once that first spanking is established then the fun can begin! :D**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review. I am very nervous writing this genre and I hope that I am doing it justice in building the relationship between Gibbs and Jenny. Having written only 'family' based situations before, this is very different for me.**

 **Chapter 3**

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Gibbs' voice, although somewhat gruff, was edged with concern. It was taking every ounce of his self control to not lead in with 'I told you so' with regards to her footwear. Staring at the steep incline down which she had slid, he realized how lucky she had been not to break something. As it was, she was sporting a nasty cut on her head along with what he imagined would be a badly bruised left ankle.

"I'm fine," replied Jenny, rolling her eyes at having answered the question three times already. "I was distracted by the light and didn't look where I was going."

Being careful not to let her know he was staring, Gibbs crouched down next to her and watched as she tucked a stray lock behind her ear. She was leaning against a large rock, having scrambled to a half sitting position before Gibbs had managed to make his way to her. When he'd heard her scream his heart had leapt. Hearing Burley's "Boss, come quick!" had set his pulse racing. Fearing she had seriously hurt herself, he was sickened to his stomach knowing the only reason she was out there was because he'd tried to teach her a lesson. The relief that washed over him when he saw her moving towards the rock had surprised him. He couldn't work out why his emotions were suddenly so strong. Sure, he had a duty of care towards her, same as he did for Burley, but with her it was….different. And, for once, Gibbs was at a loss to explain it.

He followed her gaze as she looked towards Ducky who, along with his assistant, trudged up the steep path carrying the gurney on which lay the body she had just discovered. It had to be affecting her, thought Gibbs to himself. You don't witness that kind of scene without evoking some level of emotion. And, there was the glaring fact of her being a probie. He wondered if this was her first body. Firsts were always hard.

As she moved slightly, he didn't miss the almost silent wince that escaped her mouth. She must be hurting he acknowledged seeing the careful way she tried to adjust her position. The fall had been awkward, the terrain steep, not to mention the fear that would have consumed her as she blindly tumbled forward.

He was about to stretch out a comforting hand when he suddenly stopped himself. Feeling a strong desire to slap himself upside the head, Gibbs hardened his heart. It served her right, he tried to reason. If she hadn't been trying so hard to prove a point with those damn boots, she wouldn't have fallen in the first place. Plus, she was a probie. All probies make mistakes and, just like the others, she would learn from hers. But, try as he might, his reasonings didn't sit right. There was something about her that evoked in Gibbs a primeval response. A primitive need to protect, a desire to keep her safe and, despite trying to convince himself otherwise, she wasn't just a probie. There was something different about her and it wasn't her being a woman. It was something deep within her; the way her eyes flashed, her determination and even her stubbornness. He'd known her for less than twenty four hours but already she'd forced him to bring to the surface emotions he wasn't used to feeling. She made his gut twist and turn in ways he hadn't felt for a very long time.

"Do we know who she is?" asked Jenny, unable to take her eyes off the wrapped figure being carried up the incline. It wasn't the body itself that upset her but rather the callous way in which it had been dumped, left to rot like a piece of meat.

Her question startled him, bringing him back to the current situation. He cleared his throat before answering.

"No, not yet."

Gibbs eyes strayed briefly to the body on the gurney before returning to Jenny.

"Ducky estimates she's been dead for at least three days."

"How horrible," she said softly taking in the landscape. "She could have been here for days before she died…being tortured…and no one would have heard her scream."

He watched as she shivered involuntarily. He wasn't wearing a jacket otherwise he would have wrapped it around her. Deciding his arm would be somewhat inappropriate given their lack of familiarity, he concluded the best course of action would be to get her away from this scene.

Watching Gibbs stand, Jenny asked, "Do you think this is a dumping ground?"

"Dunno," he replied, looking down at her. "We'll have to spend some time digging around but, first," he paused to stretch out his hand towards her. "We need to get you checked out by a medic."

"What? No way!" she exclaimed, sneering at the thought. "I'm fine and I can walk by myself!" she added when she saw the outstretched arm.

That's all I need, she thought to herself, Gibbs thinking I'm incapable. She'd not missed the concerned way in which he'd looked at her, surreptitiously checking her for injuries, ensuring she was alright. He'd tried to hide it of course, but Jenny was no stranger to this chauvinistic behavior. What had surprised her, was the very different way he'd made her feel. In the past, any overt show of concern would have had her on the defense but, with Gibbs, she found herself experiencing a whole new set of emotions. Gone were the normal feelings of outrage, offence and even insult. Instead, she felt protected, safe, cared for. And, at no time did he make her feel inferior. Yet, despite all this, Jenny still felt an overwhelming need to prove herself, to convince the world she was strong and capable.

Refusing his offer of help, she placed her hand on the rock for support and attempted to stand. It was only when she started adding weight to her left foot that she felt the sharp pain shoot up her leg.

"Ouch," she hissed, as her body collapsed against the rock again.

Gibbs raised a knowing eyebrow.

"Wanna re-think that answer?" he asked, holding out his arm for her to take.

"Honestly, I'm fine," she argued, again, brushing off his offer to help. "I've just jarred my left ankle. I'll be right to walk in a minute."

Shaking his head in frustration, Gibbs briefly wondered what must have happened in her life to leave her so unwilling to accept help. He felt it was more than just a strong sense of independence, more than just a stubborn streak. But right now, he didn't have time for lengthy discussions. The fact remained, she was hurting and he needed to get her up the hill to where the medics were waiting. Steeling himself for a battle, Gibbs opened his mouth to speak. He was saved from further comment however, when Stan wandered into view.

"FBI have arrived," he announced, stopping in front of Jenny and Gibbs. "Fornell's leading the investigation."

Gibbs immediately felt his anger rise.

"Like hell he is," he growled, staring up the dirt track for any sign of the FBI agent. "That earlier body was Navy."

"Yeah, but apparently she wasn't," said Burley, indicating with a nod the spot where the second body had been found. "According to Fornell, she's been missing for over two weeks. He was able to make an informal identification from the missing person photos her family submitted."

"Damn!" cursed Gibbs.

His anger, no longer directed at Tobias Fornell, spread through him like a slow, smoldering fire. These women had been someone's daughter, possibly a wife and even a mother. They had been degraded and disrespected beyond anything he could understand. Left out like trash for someone to collect and dispose of. It left him cold. He'd thought they'd at least known the number of victims but this latest find left him voicing the question on all their minds.

"How many are there?"

The question, although rhetorical had the three of them staring around the area as if they expected bodies to suddenly rise out of the ground. The air was thick with unanswered questions and Gibbs felt as if a curtain of uncertainty and hopelessness had suddenly descended. Now, more than ever, he wanted to see Simons pay for his unspeakable acts and if that meant sharing the case with the FBI he would just do it.

"Well," he said, deciding he needed to get his team out of this toxic environment. "If Fornell wants to do the heavy lifting on this one, he can have it. This whole area will need a thorough search. While they're doing that, we can be catching this bastard."

Not giving Jenny a chance to refuse, he reached out towards her and put his arm around her waist, gently lifting her until she was gingerly standing on one foot.

"Burley, grab the other side," he ordered.

"I can walk by my-" began Jenny hotly.

But Gibbs had had enough. He'd had enough of finding tortured bodies, enough of wasting countless hours trying to locate this dirt-bag and with his frustrations reaching a new high, he concluded he'd definitely had enough of this young woman's stubbornness. Finding himself leveling her with a look he usually reserved for Burley, Gibbs silenced her with a pointed finger.

"For once," he growled sternly, "you'll do as you're told."

Jenny felt her face flush with heat. She should be angry she tried to tell herself but there was something in his voice that made her heart skip. His command was gruff but his eyes spoke of a different emotion. There was a softness, a hint of concern and, before she had chance to filter her reactions, she found her head dipping and her eyes dropping to the ground. It was a reaction that both surprised and annoyed her. She prided herself on independence and self assuredness, careful to not to let any of her hidden desires escape. She wasn't willing to expose that part of herself to anyone and especially not someone she would be working so closely with. But, try as she might, she couldn't control the excited tingle that slowly rose in her stomach. And, as she quickly glanced up at Gibbs, she realized with embarrassed horror, he hadn't missed her reaction either. Damn, she inwardly cursed. Straightening her back, and regaining what little self conviction she had left, Jenny stared ahead mutinously as she allowed Burley to take her right side and, together, the three of them hobbled up the steep path.

With Jenny leaning heavily into his body, Gibbs took a moment to assess what he'd just seen. Had that been a small show of submission from the fiercely independent red head? From what he'd witnessed in the short time he'd known Ms Shepard, he felt the answer must be a resounding 'no' but, despite what he thought, he hadn't missed the shy way in which she had ducked her head, the red blush that had crept along her cheeks and the almost imperceptible smile that had escaped from her lips. He knew his command had been stern, born out of a strong desire to have her seen by the medics as soon as possible but he hadn't banked on that reaction from her. And he certainly hadn't bargained for the way it had made _him_ feel. The small dip of the head and shy way in which she had lowered her eyes had caused his heart to skip a beat. He loved her independence, her feisty 'can do' attitude but this tiny show of compliance had stirred in him an overwhelming sense to protect and take control. It spoke to his very core as a man whose inner desire was to safeguard and defend what was his. But she wasn't his, he reminded himself. She was his co-worker, yes, his subordinate even, but not _his_ in any 'biblical' sense of the word. So why the strong reaction, he asked himself.

With both of them lost to their own thoughts, they were equally surprised when the main road, littered with various government and emergency vehicles, suddenly appeared before them. Needing some space from Jenny and the effect she was having on him, Gibbs steered the three of them towards the back of the nearest ambulance. He disentangled himself from Jenny's arms and gently helped her into the back of the vehicle not missing a second wince as she gingerly lowered herself into a sitting position.

Looks like she may have bruised more than just her ankle, he thought with amusement.

Hiding the grin that threatened to break across his face, Gibbs turned to Burley.

"Stay with her and make sure she'd seen to," he ordered gruffly.

"Why me?" complained Burley loudly, his displeasure obvious. "I'm not a nursemaid!"

In two purposeful strides, Gibbs reached his second in charge and delivered a hard slap to the back of his head. The crack echoed around the small, enclosed space.

"Because I said so," barked Gibbs, glaring pointedly at the young man who was now rubbing his head furiously.

"Yes Boss," replied Stan before watching Gibbs about-face and stalk off in the direction of Tobias Fornell.

Unable to help herself, Jenny snorted at the chagrin expression on Burley's face.

"I wouldn't laugh too quickly," said Stan, still rubbing the sting from his head. "Judging from the look Gibbs was giving you at the bottom of that hill, you'll be getting the same treatment once he knows you're OK."

Jenny rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"As if! Gibbs doesn't strike me as the type to hit a woman. Besides," she added confidently. "Nothing that happened today was my fault. It was an accident. He has absolutely no reason to be angry."

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that," said Stan wryly.

As two paramedics made their way towards the vehicle, Stan leaned back on the wall and crossed his arms.

"And, for what it's worth," he added, giving Jenny a pointed look, "Gibbs doesn't need a reason."

****NCIS****

As the three of them rode the elevator to the squad room, the air was so heavy with tension, Jenny felt as though she might suffocate. Gibbs had barely spoken two words to her since she'd been given the all clear from the paramedics and that had been to bark an order that she finalize the evidence she had collected. Her anger had been further fueled when she saw him standing with the two medics she'd just seen, their conversation obviously about her if the darted looks in her direction were anything to go by. Grabbing the evidence bags she'd collected earlier, she'd dumped them forcibly into the storage container and slammed down the lid. Storming out of the van, she'd nearly collected Burley on her way.

"All clear from the medics?" he'd asked cheerfully.

Rounding on him with a fierceness meant for Gibbs, she'd snapped, "Why don't you ask Gibbs. Apparently my word isn't good enough!"

Leaving the young man stunned in her wake, Jenny had stormed around to the front of the van and wrenched opened the door. She'd climbed up and seated herself in the middle 'probie' position but not before slamming the door forcibly ensuring all those around her knew exactly how pissed she was right now. Crossing her arms tightly she turned to look out the window and caught the ominous glare Gibbs was pointing in her direction. Too angry to back down, Jenny merely returned the glare before tossing her head and facing forward.

She had remained that way for the duration of the ride back to NCIS and, now, as the elevator signaled its arrival at the squad room, Jenny felt a rush of relief as the doors opened, filling the enclosed space with light and air.

As she stepped forward, she was surprised by the hand that reached out and blocked her way. She was even more surprised when she saw Gibbs nod in Stan's direction and utter the one word command, "Out!"

Making her way to follow behind Burley, she once again felt Gibbs' arm block her way.

"Not you," he growled. "You stay!"

About to point out she wasn't a dog that required barked orders, she was thankfully saved from further wrath when Gibbs spoke to Burley who had now vacated the elevator and was waiting for further direction.

"Take the evidence down to Garrick in the lab then, check in with Ducky to see where he's up to with this latest victim."

"Yes Boss," replied Stan and Jenny didn't miss the smug grin he shot in her direction.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she simply stared back, hiding carefully the slight nervousness she was now beginning to feel.

As the elevator doors closed again, Jenny wondered where they were going. She watched as Gibbs punched the button marked two and wracked her brain as to what was on the second floor. She didn't have to think for long. For as soon as the elevator rattled into operation, Gibbs' hand flew out again and slammed on the emergency stop button. Feeling the metal box grind to a screeching stop, Jenny used every ounce of her self control to not expose the fear that was steadily rising. Instead, she tried to focus on the ingenious way Gibbs had used the elevator as a means of having a private conversation. Only he would have the nerve to precariously place the piece of equipment into a state of malfunction.

Using the elevator as a means of deflection, she said, "Not afraid of sending us hurtling to our deaths I see."

He shrugged indifferently. "S'only two floors. I'm sure we'd survive," he quipped.

Despite her nervousness, Jenny couldn't help the small smirk that pulled at the corner of her mouth. It was short lived however, when Gibbs placed his hand on the wall behind her, leaned in and glared at her fiercely.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" he barked.

His stance was deliberately intimidating and it was that which set Jenny's teeth on edge. Had he simply looked down at her she may have relented slightly but not now.

Straightening herself to her full height, she met his glare head on. "I have no idea what you mean Agent Gibbs." She even surprised herself with the feigned innocence and daring.

"Like hell you don't!" he growled.

"If you're referring to my fall, it was an accident," continued Jenny hotly. "I was focused on the glare from her locket and didn't look where I was going. It won't happen again."

"We'll get to the fall later," he said, pushing away from the wall and giving her some much needed space. Crossing his arms, he narrowed his eyes at her and continued sternly, "I'm talking about the display of temper you entertained us with at the crime scene today. The storming around, snapping at Burley, slamming doors…"

For the second time that day, Jenny felt herself blushing furiously. Having him lay out her behaviour like that, brought home just how childish she had behaved and she immediately felt embarrassed. Oh, why couldn't he have continued standing over her, yelling at her? She could have remained angry then, justified in fighting back. But the change in stance, the slight switch in his tone from anger to sternness had her stomach flipping and her heart racing. It was a subtle difference, but one which completely sent her off kilter and immediately affected the way she reacted to him.

Ignoring the heat that radiated from her face, Jenny raised her eyes to his. Rather than answer his question, she decided to hit him with one of her own.

"Why were you discussing me with the paramedics?" she shot at him. "I was quite capable of answering any questions you may have had."

"I'm sure you were," he responded coolly. "However, I wanted a professional opinion on your injuries and treatment and they are the ones trained to give me that."

Damn! He even had a logical answer to her question, she thought. Unable to come up with a suitable response she simply stared ahead.

"Is that what the tantrum was about?" he asked in amazement. "Because you didn't like me taking to the medics about you?"

He made her reaction sound so ridiculously childish. And, did he have to use the word 'tantrum'? Jenny felt her face blush even deeper and, before she could stop herself, her head lowered and she found herself staring at the floor.

"When we're out in the field, I expect a level of professionalism from my team," growled Gibbs, beginning the lecture she knew had been coming. "If you've got a problem with either me or Burley, you discuss it with us directly, preferably when we get back to base. I don't expect one of my team to storm around like a five year old in a fit of pique. It's not on. Have I made myself clear Agent Shepard?"

Oh god, she thought, he wanted an answer. Her heart was racing in her chest and she felt like her knees were about to give way. What made it worse, was knowing she deserved every word of his rebuke. Summoning up what courage she had left, she raised her eyes and, staring at a point just over his left shoulder, said as confidently as she could, "Yes, Agent Gibbs. It won't happen again."

"It better not," replied Gibbs.

He continued staring at her for a few more seconds, making sure he'd made his point. He'd been surprised again at the quick change in her demeanour. She'd initially been defiant, even angry at him and he wondered at what point her attitude had changed. Deciding it was too difficult to try and sort out the complexity that was Jenny Shepard, he chose instead to address her footwear.

Reaching down, he extracted from his bag the pair of boots he'd been handed by dispatch. After parking the van in the garage, the three of them had begun emptying out all the evidence when Sarah had called him over. Once she'd explained the boots Agent Shepard had ordered had arrived earlier that day, Gibbs had gladly taken then, hoping they would put an end to the ridiculous shoe standoff they were currently having.

"Here," he said gruffly, handing her the pair of boots. "These arrived today."

Jenny rolled her eyes. Knowing her fall had nothing to do with her boots, she felt confident in voicing her objections.

"I don't need them," she argued. "My own boots are perfectly fine."

Gibbs stared at her incredulously.

"I think today is clear proof that they're not!"

Folding her arms over her chest, Jenny glared at him mutinously, all previous signs of contrition well and truly gone.

"As I said before, falling today had nothing to do with my boots. I wasn't looking where I was going and tripped. It would have happened even if I had been wearing those hideous things." Her last words were punctuated with a look of distain towards the proffered footwear.

"I don't care," said Gibbs firmly, putting the boots on the floor in front of her. "These are NCIS issue and you will wear them."

He leaned forward and hit the emergency stop button followed by the button for the squad room, sending the elevator shuddering into action.

"Now!" he barked sharply having noticed out of the corner of his eye she hadn't moved.

He stepped back and leaned casually against the wall of the metal interior, smirking smugly to himself when she finally crouched down and, with an exaggerated huff of annoyance, unzipped her left boot and pulled it away, revealing the heavily taped ankle from her earlier fall.

"They'll give you far better support," he commented, noting the sharp intake of air as she attempted to put her inured foot into the boot.

Ignoring him completely, Jenny persevered until both feet were encased in the hateful boots. With the elevator doors now opened onto the squad room and Gibbs hand stopping them from closing again, Jenny stood with as much dignity as she could.

Giving her a quick once over, Gibbs nodded his head brusquely.

"Much better," he announced.

The look she gave as she sauntered passed him was one of pure contempt and, whereas Gibbs would have had no hesitation in slapping Burley across the back of the head had he dared to level Gibbs with such a look, he felt instead an intense desire to swat sharply at the pert backside that swayed in her wake. Retracting his hand quickly before he ended up on the wrong side of a sexual harassment complaint, Gibbs closed his eyes and counted to three, before stepping out and following her into the squad room.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN - Many apologies for the long break between updates. There's far too much to go into any detail but let me just say that I hate cancer with a passion. In the last two months it has affected 3 people very close to me, taking the life of one of them. It has taken some time to get my head back into writing but I think I'm ready to embrace these fantasy worlds once again.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews, facebook messages and PMs asking about the stories. It's been hard to reply due to the personal nature of my absence but I'm sure you understand.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had fun writing it. I will hopefully update An Australian Adventure soon.**

 **I look forward, as always, to hearing your thoughts. Thanks.**

Chapter 4

"So, how's your head, Shepard?"

Jenny looked up from her computer screen and fixed Stan with a look of bewilderment.

"What?" she asked, when no further explanation was offered.

"Your head?" repeated Stan. "How many stars did you see after that little display back at the crime scene?"

Suddenly realizing what he was referring to, Jenny rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the document she had been reading on her screen.

"Oh come on, Shepard," teased Stan. "We're all family here, you can share."

Jenny scoffed quietly to herself.

"Is that why you waited until Gibbs had left for coffee before asking me?" she asked, still not bothering to look in Stan's direction.

"Well, there's no point in both of us being in trouble."

From the corner of her left eye, Jenny noticed Stan rise from his desk and make his way towards her.

"Hurts doesn't it?" he asked, stopping in front of her and leaning one hip on her desk.

She sighed loudly.

"I wouldn't know," she replied, raising her eyes briefly to meet his.

"What?" he exclaimed, standing upright and staring at her incredulously. "After what you did back there, not to mention falling on your ass in those ridiculous boots!"

She leveled him with a knowing smile.

"What can I say, Burley," she said, returning to the document on the screen, "I obviously don't require such drastic measures as you."

Stan opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by the telltale 'ding' of the elevator. Scrambling back to his desk, he quickly pulled the file he'd been working on closer to him and redirected his attention to the current case.

Shaking her head at Stan's reaction to Gibbs entering the squad room, Jenny returned her gaze to the computer screen. She tried, once again to focus on the document she had open before her but found she was distracted by Burley's words. If she were honest with herself, she'd half expected to be on the receiving end of a hard head slap, having seen Stan flinch more times than she cared to count. It did appear to be Gibbs' favorite way of dealing with most infractions from absent-minded daydreaming to blatant disrespect. When the elevator doors had closed, she'd mentally prepared herself for the stinging slap along with the subsequent mouthful she was going to inflict on Gibbs and, had to admit, was surprised when it never came. Not that she had wanted it. She found the action distasteful to say the least.

Having lost her mother at a young age, she'd been raised by a loving and attentive father who, on the very rare occasions he'd found physical discipline necessary, had only ever spanked her bottom. Her education had consisted of all-girl private schools where, despite the looming presence of a wooden paddle, Jenny had never been on the receiving end of such a harsh punishment. It had only been in her mid teenage years, when she'd started socializing with the boys from the neighboring schools, she'd witnessed the 'back of the head salute' as it had been described by her first boyfriend. She had, of course, seen it in action many times since then, but it always sent a shiver of disdain down her back. The practice was, in her eyes, unnecessarily harsh and, even dangerous, if Burley's reactions were anything to go by. Sometimes, the sheer crack of Gibbs' palm meeting Stan's head had Jenny flinching in sympathy and, more often than not, she was surprised the poor man could manage to string sentences together after a particularly hard whack.

And yet, there was something about Gibbs that sent her heart racing and her mind wandering. He never needed to demand respect as his sheer presence commanded it naturally. He emanated authority while maintaining a level of quiet gentleness and, while he would never be accused of verbal diarrhea, when he did speak his words were measured and meaningful.

Her document now totally forgotten, Jenny thought back to her earlier conversation with Burley when he had first hinted at Gibbs' doling out the customary head slap. She had meant it when she'd said to Stan that Gibbs didn't strike her as the type to head slap a woman. He was old school in many ways, a chauvinist, one who saw women as needing protection. And, as much as she cried equal rights and, rightly so, there was a part of her that admired that trait in a man. Well, if she were truly honest with herself, she more than admired it. She found it down right sexy, a complete turn on. Thinking back to their conversation in the field, the way Gibbs had ordered her to 'do as she was told' still sent her tummy flipping. The sternness of his voice had sent delicious waves of warmth through her very core and created in her a need to hear that tone again. And she'd received her wish less than an hour later in the elevator. She only hoped she'd managed to hide the way his voice had reduced her to a puddle of wanton desire but sadly, she knew the tell tale blushing had not been missed by his keen senses. And, oh that excruciating plummeting of her stomach as she'd passed by him, where, for just one second, she'd wished she'd been on the receiving end of that strong capable hand. Not on her head of course. No, her desire had been for a stinging sensation in a much lower region of her body.

Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the heat she knew was radiating from her cheeks, Jenny blinked a few times before shaking her head slightly and refocusing her attention to the document on the screen before her.

"Something wrong Shepard?"

The barked question took Jenny by surprise, causing her body to jump and her breath catch in her throat. Coughing violently, she grabbed at the water bottle sitting on her desk and tried desperately to quell the sudden attack while using the much needed time to come up with a reasonable explanation.

"No, I'm….fine…"she spluttered, clearing her throat before taking a few more mouthfuls.

"Hmmmm," he responded, not convinced for one second.

He continued to stare at her while she took a final sip of water and replaced the cap. Knowing her cheeks must be the color of beetroot, Jenny tried again for an explanation.

"I… er…think I caught the sun today," she offered lamely while returning her gaze to the screen in front of her, hoping the explanation would end the scrutiny.

Unfortunately, it only lead to more grief.

"Yeah, that was my next question," he replied smoothly. "Where's my cap, Shepard?"

Closing her eyes, she felt her shoulders slump. Damn! She'd forgotten about that.

Noticing he was still waiting for an answer, she summoned what little dignity she had left and said airily, "About fifty foot up a tree."

Hearing a stifled snort from her left, she didn't bother to grace Burley with a look but continued staring at her computer screen as if it contained the answer to life's most important question. It was only as the screen flashed suddenly leaving only a fading pin prick of light surrounded by a sea of blue, did she realized Gibbs had yanked the cable out the back effectively leaving her with no choice but to stare at a now blank screen.

"I don't think doing that is a good …." she began haughtily.

"Do I look as if I care?" he interrupted bluntly.

Resisting the urge to bite back with something equally as sarcastic, she chose instead to stare into the cobalt blue eyes with as much nonchalance as she dared without appearing insubordinate while she waited for him to continuing speaking. She should have known better. He was never one to offer more when an unanswered question still loomed in the air.

When, after several uncomfortable seconds had ticked by, she threw up her arms and said "What do you want me to say? It caught on a branch and because it was far too big, it flicked off my head and landed on another branch about fifty feet in the air!"

"So why didn't you retrieve it?"

Giving him the kind of look usually reserved for the very dim witted, Jenny rolled her eyes and muttered, "Sure, and have you chew me out for killing myself while out in the field. No thanks!"

Turning her gaze back to him, she was sure he was enjoying her discomfort which only served to rile her further. The hidden smirk hovered threateningly but, with the resistance typical to that of a well trained Marine, he kept a straight face and continued to glare in her direction.

Finally, placing both palms flat against her desk and leaning into her personal space, he spoke in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Do you have any idea how long it takes to wear in a cap?"

"No," she replied, managing to maintain eye contact despite feeling like a small animal about to be devoured by its predator. "But, I imagine, I am about to find out."

Continuing to glare at her for a further few seconds which, in Jenny's opinion felt like an eternity, he eventually lifted his left hand and slapped it down hard on the desk, the sound echoing around the work space. Without another word, he straightened and turned abruptly, striding out of their area and towards the elevator. Jenny jumped slightly as she heard his hand once again land forcibly upon an unsuspecting object, this time the elevator button. It wasn't until she heard the whoosh of the doors closing, did she finally take a breath.

Highly skilled in hiding her true feelings, Jenny drew back her shoulders and, with an air of complete indifference, she quietly stood and proceeded to collect the discarded cord before shoving it back in its rightful place. Hearing the satisfying whir of her monitor starting up again, she returned to her seat and once again busied herself in studying the document that was once again filling her screen.

"You are one cool chick, Shepard," remarked Burley, leaning back in his chair and placing both legs on his desk, crossing his ankles in an air of arrogance.

Despite the small smirk that formed at the corner of her mouth, Jenny gave no indication of having heard the statement.

"I mean," he continued, despite her lack of interest, "other than the initial panic when he first spoke…"

"That wasn't panic, I simply swallowed the wrong way," she inserted, still focused on the screen.

"Yeah, whatever," replied Stan, his eyes rolling at her attempted explanation. "Other than that, you handled that whole situation with a coolness not many would dare to show. I'm impressed Shepard," he added, placing his hands behind his head and leaning even further back. "I think you're insane, but I'm impressed!"

Sighing tiredly, Jenny turned to the agent, now positioned in such a relaxed pose he was nearly laying on the floor and, raising her eyebrows, asked, "Insane?"

"Yeah," he replied with conviction. "Most people try to avoid the wrath of Gibbs, particularly when they are, in fact, at fault, i.e. the cap," he added, just in case she was in any doubt of his meaning, "but not you. No, you actually provoke him further."

Sick of craning her neck in order to maintain eye contact, Jenny stood and made her way to the front of Stan's desk. Crossing her arms over her chest, she made no pretense of how she was feeling.

"And what was I suppose to say?" she asked, unable to hide the anger that was creeping forward. "He asked me a question and I answered it. If he hadn't made me wear the damn thing in the first place, he wouldn't have lost his precious cap. Any idiot could see it was far too big."

She watched as Stan suddenly righted his chair and scraped his legs from the desk. Straightening his posture, he continued to stare at her. Assuming his change of position was due to her intimidating demeanor, she continued with confidence.

"But oh no! The all great and knowing Gibbs has to make sure his point is made by forcing me to wear something at least three sizes too big just so he can save face!"

"It wasn't my face I was trying to save!"

The voice was low, dangerously low, and reverberated in her left ear, indicating the speaker was very close. Suddenly understanding why Burley had made the quick shift in his seating arrangements, Jenny waited for the fall out as she stood rooted to the spot.

But, none came. Hearing him step around her, she watched as Gibbs flung a new cap onto her desk before wordlessly striding back to his own desk and taking a seat.

Closing her eyes against her own stupidity, she was about to turn and offer an apology when her words were cut off by an outraged Burley.

"Are you kidding me, Boss!" growled the younger agent, rising from his chair and standing directly in front of Gibbs' desk. "If I'd even said a quarter of what she just did, you'd have smacked me so hard I'd be half way across the room staring into Matlock's team!"

"You still might be if you don't get back to your own desk," grunted Gibbs, shuffling the papers in front of him.

When Burley didn't move, Gibbs finally looked up into the younger man's eyes.

"You got a problem, Burley?"

"Yeah, I do!" snapped Stan, completely flabbergasted at what had just taken place. "I want to know what's with the special treatment."

Ceasing his task, Gibbs rubbed one hand over his eyes and glared at Stan. Noticing Jenny hadn't moved either, he knew she was also waiting for an answer. If he were completely honest with himself, he knew Stan was right. He was letting Jenny get away with attitude that would have had Burley seeing stars. Yet, despite how it looked, he just couldn't bring himself to give her much deserved head slap. It went against everything he'd been taught. And yet, it frustrated the hell out of him. He certainly didn't want his actions to come across as double standards and yet, that was exactly what he was doing.

Sighing deeply, he softened his voice and said quietly, "Just…just go back to your desk Burley. I'm not discussing this right now."

The look Stan gave him, made Gibbs sink even lower within himself. He'd avoided the question and, in doing so, inevitably admitted guilt to the accusation. The disappointment that cross the young man's face was something Gibbs didn't like to see, especially when he was reason for the look.

Watching as Stan turned and headed back for his desk, Gibbs felt his stomach churn. He'd not had a female agent working under him before and the few he'd worked with via the other teams didn't seem to be half as stubborn and pig headed as his new Probie appeared to be. Why couldn't she just do as she was told? Why didn't she cower and obey like every other agent he'd been assigned to train? And why the hell did she have to be so damn beautiful?

Wishing he could suddenly head slap himself, Gibbs pushed that final question away with as much force as he could muster. He was going to have to do something though. He couldn't let her get away with the constant attitude and disrespect she'd been showing so far. But that would mean going down official channels and, if there was one thing Gibbs hated more than unruly rookies, it was official channels. The time wasted in filling in forms, following through with warnings and reports, not to mention coming up with appropriate sanctions was something that made Gibbs's head spin. It was far easier and quicker to let fly with a well placed smack to the back of the head and his team knew it. Pacci and Davidson had known it, as did Burley. Hell, hadn't he learnt it from Franks, thinking back to the many times his own brain had rattled in his skull thanks to the ministrations of his mentor. But, again, Gibbs found himself back with the same denominator. They had all been men.

Frustrated with the ceaseless circle of his thoughts, Gibbs came up with the only conclusion. Coffee! As Stan pulled in his chair and made some attempts to focus on his work, Gibbs shook his head in irritation and, slamming the papers down on his desk, stood and quickly stormed through the work space, passing Jenny who was still standing next to Stan's desk, having not moved during the brief confrontation between himself and the younger agent.

Stepping into the elevator and looking forward to a few moments of peace and quiet, Gibbs was somewhat surprised when Jenny Shepard followed him into the small metal space. He was shocked even further when, having started the elevator, she slammed on the emergency stop and turned to face him once all movement had ceased.

Meeting her gaze with raised eyebrows, Gibbs waited for the young red head to speak. It was she who had initiated this impromptu meeting therefore it was she who could do the talking.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned heavily on one hip and glared at him with eyes alight with fire.

"Burley's right," she announced.

Not giving her any leeway, Gibbs waited for her to continue.

"Let's just get one thing very clear," she said, almost as if she were adding a disclaimer to what she was about to say, "I do not ever what to be on the receiving end of what you seem to think is an appropriate means of dealing with your team members. I find the whole concept of hitting someone on the back of the head to be highly dangerous. Do you have any idea how much damage you can do to someone?"

He was about to say that in order to cause damage there had to be something in there to damage in the first place, but his words were cut short when she continued without hesitation.

"That being said," she continued, her voice dropping slightly and her arms falling to her sides. "Burley has a point. Why are you treating me differently?"

He studied her for a moment. With the regulation NCIS boots now adorning her feet, she was no taller than five foot three or four. Compared with his own six foot two, he felt like he was being attacked by a pint sized hellion who seemed to confuse stupidity with bravery. And yet, her fearlessness and spunk attracted him like a bee to honey. He admired her tenacity despite it simultaneously driving him crazy. She evoked in him a paradox of emotions and it definitely unnerved him. Taking in the rich auburn tones of her hair which was pulled back into a single pony tail, the end of which fell in a gentle cascade down her back, he suddenly had a desire to run his fingers through soft strands. Not allowing the distraction, he returned his attention to the emerald eyes, trying not to think of how they sparked with fire when she annoyed, much akin to how they were looking now.

He saw her suddenly blush and knew she had noticed the way he was staring at her. Not one to let foolish mind wandering affect his concentration, he cleared his throat and leveled her with a curious stare.

"What do you want me to say?" he finally replied. "You're right. I am treating you differently."

Surprised at his admission, Jenny crossed her arms again and cocked her head slightly.

"Why?" she asked directly. "Because I'm a woman?"

Whatever it was she'd expected him to say, it wasn't what next fell from his lips.

"Yes," he admitted freely. "It's precisely because you are a woman."

Frowning in response, Jenny was left with nowhere to go. She had nothing to come back with. She'd been ready to argue, bombard him with examples, call him a chauvinist but now she was left with nothing more than a stunned silence.

"Well then," she finally said, gaining what little composure she had left, 'We have a problem. I am, as you can see, quite clearly a woman. That's not going to change, Agent Gibbs."

Using his title, she'd hoped to bring some distance between them but, without warning, she founded herself suddenly blushing again as she thought of how his eyes had virtually undressed her only moments ago.

"So I see," he responded lazily, unconsciously dropping his eyes to her chest before bringing them quickly back to her face again. Her inflamed cheeks told him she hadn't missed the distraction.

Suddenly feeling as if it were 100 degress in the small confined space, Gibbs cleared his throat and stepped back slightly.

"Look Shepard," he began, his no nonsense tone returning quickly. "I may be somewhat unorthodox in the way I deal with my team. I learnt it from my boss and I've found it works. But, I've only had to deal with men. When I was a Gunnery Sergeant, I came up with other ways to deal with the females I was training. However, unless you care to run laps around the building or drop and give me 100 push-ups, that's probably not going to work either."

He didn't miss the over exaggerated eye roll combined with a small huff of annoyance that escaped her lips.

"But," he continued more firmly, encouraged by the display of disrespect she'd just shown, "I won't put up with that kind of attitude either young lady!"

He didn't know where the 'young lady' had come from but it fell from his lips so naturally that, for a moment, he was unsure of how to continue.

In retrospect, Jenny suddenly felt her stomach lurch into a tingling somersault that took her completely by surprise. He had called her "young lady" and it had sent waves of delicious ripples through her core. While the term for many could be seen as inappropriate or even condescending, it held no such meaning for Jenny. When spoken from a man whom she respected and admired, such as one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the phrase was one that sent her spiraling inward causing desire to flood through her and settle in that region of her body that held so much pleasure. In what seemed like a ridiculous notion to some, being called 'young lady' made Jenny feel loved and protected, secure in the knowledge that someone cared for her and was willing to make her accountable for her actions or words.

Gibbs stared at the young woman before him and suddenly he knew without a doubt what she needed. He'd been here before, only once, but once had been enough for him to notice the tell tale signs and blushes that meant so much more than the average person saw. Yet, despite his confidence in being right, he would still have to play this carefully. An assault charge was definitely not something he wanted to be facing. Therefore, he decided, he would let his words do the work. If she responded in the way he felt sure she would, his hands would soon follow suit.

Crossing his own arms over his chest, he looked down at her sternly and continued where he'd left off.

"I don't hold much faith in official channels of discipline. I find reports, desk duty and being benched just a waste of a good agent. And, despite the way you may have behaved so far, I do believe you are a good agent."

He watched as she listened in stunned silence and, when her head dropped in submission and her arms fell once again to her sides, he knew he was on the right track.

"However, as I said, I won't put up with your current lack of respect, your ridiculously childish behavior back at the crime scene this morning and your constant arguing when I give you an order. You are here to learn Agent Shepard and, like it or not, I am the one to teach you."

Uncrossing his arms, he allowed them to fall neutrally by his side. Despite knowing in his gut that this was exactly what she needed, he was still somewhat unsure about uttering the final words. The words which could lead to total disaster should he have gravely mistaken the signals he'd thought he was receiving. But, he'd come this far, he thought to himself, may as well finish the job.

"But, as you have so clearly pointed out, head slapping you is not the solution. Call me a chauvinist if you like, but it isn't in my nature to slap a woman on the back of the head. For whatever reasons, which I don't understand, it just doesn't feel right. In my opinion…"

Here he paused. This was his last chance to back out of what he was about to say, his last chance to change the direction of the conversation. But, as she slowly lifted her head and looked at him with those green eyes that smoldered trust and desire, he knew without a shadow of a doubt, he had to continue. In his own heart, he had to know if this was what she wanted.

"….women were blessed with a region of their bodies far more suitable for feeling a chastising hand."

The blush that crept up her neck and settled so adorably on her cheeks had Gibbs using every ounce of his will not to smirk at her obvious desire and total understanding of what he was saying.

"So, Miss Shepard," he continued sternly. "If I ever fall witness to you doing or saying something that would normally provoke a stinging head slap, you can be sure it will be a much lower part of your anatomy that will be feeling the sting of my hand. Have I made myself clear?"

Gibbs took a deep breath. There, he'd said it. He'd laid his cards on the table with no chance of being misunderstood. As the silent seconds ticked away in time to the pounding of his heart, he waited for her response.

On the other side of the elevator, Jenny felt her mouth suddenly relieve itself of all moisture. Unable to speak, she chewed desperately on her bottom lip, hoping for some form of verbal communication to return. Her heart was pounding relentlessly and she was sure her knees were joining the percussion ensemble. She'd only ever experienced one other man who'd spoken to her in that way and that had been many years ago when she was first discovering her own sexuality. And yet, standing here before Gibbs, she felt seventeen once again. Rushed by the feelings of desire and excitement, she invariably knew to where all that moisture from her mouth had disappeared. A flood of wetness pooled in her panties and her bottom tingled with the anticipation of just imagining his hand spanking her sharply. She knew her cheeks were inflamed but all she could think about was the desire to be draped over his knee receiving a matching pair further south.

God, she had to stop, she told herself sharply. This was work and Gibbs was her boss. She was here for one reason only and that was to avenge her father's death. Personal feelings and desires were not welcome. Therefore, summoning as much decorum as she could, Jenny straightened her back and, turning abruptly, slammed her hand on the emergency stop, followed by the floor to the squad room. As the elevator shuddered into action, she pulled back her shoulders and timed the lifting of her gaze to meet with his with the precise moment the elevators doors slowly opened.

Cocking her head slightly to one side, she jutted out her chin and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"I look forward to seeing you try!"

Her words were laden with sass and completely betrayed her true feelings but there was no way she was going to let Gibbs know how much his words had rung true in her heart.

With her head held high, Jenny Shepard stepped out of the elevator and was relieved when her legs managed to cooperate.

With her back now facing him, Gibbs finally allowed the smirk he'd been holding back to fully emerge. He knew he had been right. Her lack of outrage, shock or desire to have him castrated on the spot, immediately confirmed his intuition. Stepping out behind her he easily caught up to petite redhead. Gently taking her arm as a means of stopping her relentless strides, he leaned down toward her ear and, with her still facing away from him, whispered quietly, "So do I, Miss Shepard, so do I."

Hearing the miffed, "Hmph!" as she tugged out of his grip, Gibbs found he was suddenly laughing. Realizing it had been a long time since he'd felt the desire to really laugh, he fully embraced the emotion. With his heart feeling a little lighter, he re-entered the elevator intent on eradicating any remaining stresses with a large cup of coffee.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Wasn't sure I'd get this out before Christmas but, yay, I did! Thanks again for all your patience and understanding and especially for all the lovely reviews. I really appreciate it. You have no idea how much they help me to get through and inspire me to write that next chapter, particularly in light of all the sadness lately.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and, if I don't post beforehand, a Happy New Year!**

 **PS - we have temperatures of 38C on Christmas Day, that's 100F! Singing "Jingle Bells" and "Let it Snow" will sound so realistic! LOL!  
**

Chapter 5

"Hey Shepard!"

"Mmmmm?" murmured Jenny distractedly.

She'd spent the last hour checking through countless car plate registrations on the large data printout they'd collected from the local LEO's. The work was tedious and mind numbing. After only a few minutes, she'd found her vision blurring at the minuscule print and was now using a ruler to help keep her place.

"Any luck?" asked Stan.

She looked up to find him leaning back on his chair. Without warning, a folded airplane came sailing past her head and landed directly on her sheet. Flicking the paper aside, she noticed it was from the registration printout Stan had taken when they'd halved the pile.

"Have you finished going through them all?" she asked incredulously, looking at her own pile of which she was only through about a third.

"Nah," replied Stan, busily making a second plane. Within seconds, it too came sailing past her desk.

Jenny levelled him with a sardonic look before sighing heavily and returning to the page in front of her. When the third paper plane hit her squarely on the ear, she threw her hands up in defeat and grabbed one of the pages she'd finished checking. Setting to task, she made light work of the slimline aircraft she had perfected in college and, lining up her target, sent it soaring in Stan's direction. Her aim was perfect and, as her plane suddenly went into a nose dive, it landed precisely in Stan's coffee mug.

"Great shot, Shepard!" hailed Stan.

He gathered his pile of papers together and hurried to Jenny's desk. Perching himself on the corner, he dumped the pile on the wooden surface and took up the top sheet.

"Show me your design."

Completely distracted, the two agents spent the next five minutes with heads bowed over Jenny's desk while the petite red head shared her plane making skills.

"You know," said Stan, once Jenny had finished the demonstration. "If we make an extra fold here, I bet we could increase the distance by fifty percent."

Jenny shrugged.

"Sure," she agreed.

While Stan made the suggested adjustments, Jenny stood and walked over to Gibbs' desk. Grabbing his precious N.I.S. coffee mug from the back shelf, she placed it in the middle of his desk.

Stan suddenly stopped, mid fold, and stared at her, open mouthed.

"What the hell are you doing, Probie?"

Jenny frowned at his tone before lifting her hands in a gesture of confusion.

"What?" she asked.

"Rule 23," said Stan. "Weren't you a Marine Brat?"

"Navy Brat," corrected Jenny, walking back to her own desk and picking up the paper plane. "Any way, what's that got to do with anything?"

Stan glared incredulously at Jenny while she perfected the last fold. Completely oblivious to Stan's distress, she lined up the plane with Gibbs' mug.

"Rule 23," he quoted, watching in horror as the plane left Jenny's hands and began its mission towards the unsuspecting mug. "Never mess with a Marine's coffee if…."

"You want to live," concluded a third, unexpected voice.

Stepping into the line of fire, Gibbs struck out a hand and caught the small missile in mid flight. Turning to face the two agents he noted the differences in their demeanour. One was practically cowering on the spot, while the other looked thoroughly annoyed.

"Hey!" objected the smaller of the two. "That would have been a perfect shot!"

Gibbs raised one eyebrow and glared at her before scrunching up the plane and tossing it on her desk.

"What's your problem Gibbs?" asked Jenny, further annoyed by his destruction of her masterpiece. "The mug's empty."

"Lucky for you it is," replied Gibbs ominously, picking up the mug. Striding around his desk he carefully put it back on the shelf before turning back to the wayward agents.

"I'm assuming you've found a match?" he asked, leaning forward on his desk and glaring at the pair.

Stan was the first to recover. Lazily strolling back to his chair, he sat and resumed his relaxed pose.

"Hah! Not likely," he replied, snorting scornfully.

Gibbs transferred his gaze to Jenny.

"Then I gather you've finished with those piles?" he asked.

"No, not yet," she said, taking a seat and pulling herself in behind her desk.

Gibbs slapped his hand on the desk making both Agents jump. Stan instantly rose to his feet and made a quick dash to Jenny's desk in an attempt to retrieve his forgotten pile of papers which still presided there.

"Then why the hell were the two of you fooling around with paper planes!" he bellowed, stepping away from his desk and arriving in front of Jenny's at the same time as Stan.

"Gibbs, we've been hard at for the last two hours," complained Jenny. "We were just taking a break."

"You don't get breaks until you either finish the job or I tell you to take a break. We clear Shepard?" Gibbs voice remained raised as he glared at the redhead.

"Crystal," she replied, disdain dripping from the word.

"However," she added, just as Gibbs had turned to head back to his own desk. "I don't see you with a pile of pages to go through. Want some of ours?"

Without thinking, Stan snorted, her words catching him off guard. The stinging slap that reverberated around the room left the younger man almost swaying on the spot.

"Something funny, Burley?" demanded Gibbs.

"No Boss," replied Stan, taking his pile of paper and resuming his seat.

Jenny stood and crossed her arms.

"Don't do that!" she said, her teeth clenched in anger.

Gibbs looked at her in surprise.

"Do what?" he asked.

"Head slap Burley because you're pissed with me," she replied.

Once again, Gibbs found himself counting to five. Once done, he leaned forward, placing his palms on her desk and leaned into her personal space. He was impressed when she neither stepped back nor flinched.

"Not that I should need to explain myself Ms Shepard," began Gibbs quietly. "But the head slap was for his inappropriate response to your irrelevant comment-"

"It was not irr-"

"WHEN," continued Gibbs loudly, cutting her off before she could finish. "I'm pissed with you, as you so delicately put it, trust me, you'll know about it."

He reached over to Stan's desk, ignoring the flinch from the younger man, and retrieved the pile of papers Stan had only just put down. Slamming them on top of Jenny's already enormous pile, Gibbs signalled to Stan.

"With me," he said. "And bring your gear."

Not bothering to wait for Stan as he bent to gather his back pack, Gibbs turned heel and marched to the elevator, a frazzled Stan chasing after him.

"Oh, like now?" yelled Jenny at the retreating back.

When Gibbs didn't bother to respond, she picked up the scrunched ball that had once been her paper plane and lobbed it at his head, hitting him with a soft, but satisfying, thwack. Watching his back, Jenny noticed an infinitesimal pause in his step but, instead of turning around, Gibbs simply ignored the hit and resumed his pace.

Reaching the elevator, he didn't bother to make any eye contact with her while he waited for Burley to enter before slamming his hand on the 'close doors' button, the only sign of the anger that seethed below the surface.

Dropping into her chair, Jenny looked despondently at the now doubled pile of papers before her. Picking up the top sheet and her ruler, she sighed heavily before trying to resume the tedious task. It didn't take long before she slammed the ruler down and leaned back into her chair, anger radiating off her like steam.

"Calm down Shepard," she told herself fiercely.

Giving herself a few minutes to breathe deeply, Jenny found her mind wandering places it really didn't need to go.

The last couple of days had been unusually quiet. There were very few leads to follow up with the Simon's case particularly since the FBI had taken control of the crime scene. Fornell and Gibbs had come to a compromise of sorts, agreeing they would precede with a joint investigation, sharing intel, evidence etc. The crime scene had uncovered three more bodies, all with Simon's signature and two of whom were Navy. It was these two Jenny and Stan were currently chasing but, having already pursued identifications and background, there was little more they could do. She was convinced checking through thousands of registrations was just Gibbs' way of keeping them busy.

The lack of activity had been particularly difficult for Jenny. Just when she'd hoped things would be busy to take her mind away from Gibbs' words to her in the elevator, she found herself spending more and more time, sitting at her desk and pondering her situation.

She had gone home that evening in a daze, wondering if, maybe, she'd misunderstood Gibbs' intention. But, no matter how many times she replayed the conversation in her mind and, she had replayed it many times, she always came to the same conclusion; Gibbs had threatened her with a spanking.

Well, at least a swat, rationalised Jenny. It wasn't like he'd actually threatened to take over his knee or anything.

"Darn it!" she said aloud, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

She sobered quickly however as she remembered with hot embarrassment the effect his words had had on her. She should have been more outraged she thought to herself; threatened him with an official complaint, threatened to castrate him, anything other than what she had done. Putting her head in her hands she visibly shrank in her seat as memory of her blushing like a school girl left her feeling sick to the stomach.

The problem was she hadn't been outraged at all. Surprised, yes; but outraged, no. And then, if that hadn't been bad enough, there followed the immediate sexual response. The leap in her stomach and the tingling further south that left hot pools of moisture flooding her very core.

Had Gibbs noticed she wondered? She had tried to be nonchalant, exiting the elevator coolly after throwing a careless comment over her shoulder. But, had it been enough? Or, had he somehow managed to get into her very soul and see the truth exposed as plainly as she felt it had been? Did he have any idea how turned on his words had made her? God, she hoped not.

And, the rational side of Jenny deliberated, had he really been that serious? He was most likely making an idol threat, a joke perhaps? But Gibbs didn't make idol threats and, as for joking? Hah! She'd likely see a pig fly before that would happen. No, she thought, he had certainly sounded serious and, while he may never have actually used the word 'spanking', he'd made it fairly clear that was his intent.

Left with a cacophony of confused thoughts, Jenny picked up the ruler and tried, once again, to wade through the list of registrations hoping to, well, if not find a match, at least distract her mind for a while.

She needn't have worried about being distracted, however. The next two days left her with nothing to think about except the case. A phone call from Fornell had put Gibbs in a complete spin. He'd ordered her and Stan to check out addresses all over the city, each one handing them a small piece of the puzzle that was Bradley Simons.

It was at the last of these addresses that Jenny made her first major 'probie' mistake, a mistake that almost cost them the case. The three of them had found themselves at an old abandoned shack on the outskirts of the city and surrounded by a heavily wooded forest. Gibbs had ordered her to search the perimeter while he and Burley entered the ramshackle building.

"Stay within the fence boundary," ordered Gibbs. "If you see anything further that you think warrants investigation, call us."

As the two men left her foraging through years of dumped household waste, Jenny wondered, not for the first time in the last two days, what Gibbs hoped for them to find. Looking for something known was one thing but this scavenging through rusty metal, broken concrete and worn old tires trying to find that elusive clue that might lead them to Simons, was a completely different matter. Brushing back loose strands of wayward hair that fell repeated into her eyes, Jenny sighed.

This is crazy, she thought to herself.

Standing with her hands on her hips, Jenny surveyed the house yard.

I have no idea what I'm looking for and no idea of where to start.

Scanning the objects in the distance, Jenny's eye's caught the remnants of an old tree house. Still perched high on the second branch of an old oak, the wooden structure looked stable enough. Taking note of her surroundings, she stealthily made her way towards the tree, not even registering she was walking through a gap in the boundary fence to reach it. Seeing there was a ladder, albeit a rather rickety looking one, Jenny stretched up and felt for one of the rungs, pulling carefully to test its strength. When it didn't crumble immediately, she took that as a positive sign and put a tentative foot on one of the bottom rungs. Easing her way up, she soon discovered that the top four rungs were missing.

Damn, she thought.

Looking up, she saw to the left, a smaller branch slightly lower than the one on which sat the tree house. It didn't look overly strong but should, she thought optimistically, hold her weight long enough for her to hoist herself up and into the wooden house.

It did.

Sighing with relief, Jenny crouched low and examined her surrounds. She wondered how long it had been since children played within its walls.

"Quite a while," she muttered sardonically, finding a small hoard of used and unprotected syringes in the corner. She carefully picked them up and popped them into an evidence bag.

With nothing else of interest to be found, Jenny was just about to exit the small door when she heard distant voices. Listening intently, she knew instantly that it was neither Stan nor Gibbs and, as the voices neared, she also knew they were too close for her to warn the others without giving away her position.

She didn't move, nor make any sound at all. From her advantage point, Jenny was able to clearly see the house and it wasn't long before Gibbs and Stan emerged. Judging from the way they scurried from hiding spot to hiding spot, they too had heard the approaching party. Jenny wondered why they didn't just high-tail it out of the yard and into the woods. Then a sudden feeling of dread hit her. She knew exactly why they weren't leaving the area. They were looking for her.

Oh, how could she have been so stupid, she thought to herself. Not only had she failed to inform them of where she was going, she'd inadvertently left the area she had been ordered to stay. And now, because of her carelessness, Gibbs and Stan were potentially putting both their lives on the line.

Frantically thinking of a way to warn Gibbs and Stan, Jenny watched helplessly as the two men searched the perimeter, guns drawn but held low. If she couldn't warn the others, maybe she could distract their approaching company. They may just be hikers out for a day trip. She could call out to them. That would let Gibbs know of her position and signal that she was OK. But what if they weren't hikers? What if, as she suspected, they were somehow involved with the whole case?

In the end, the decision was taken completely out of her hand. With the silence around her almost deafening, it wasn't hard to hear the slightest movement, even when it was well over two hundred yards away. The men approaching heard it too and stopped in their tracks.

"Hey, Jimmy," she heard one of them whisper. "Over there, in the clearing."

Everyone turned, including Jenny. Squinting slightly, she saw, at last, what had caught everyone's attention. A mature buck had entered a small clearing about two hundred yards behind the men. Almost silently, the men turned as one and headed back in the direction from which they'd come. Jenny noticed the one called Jimmy had lifted his shotgun in readiness to kill.

Crouching on the edge of tree house door, Jenny waited for the shot to ring out, knowing it would muffle any sounds of her jumping to the ground and running back to the house. When the explosion came, she leaped out the door and landed smoothly on the ground below, thankful for once, that Gibbs had insisted she wear the god awful boots. Within seconds she was within Gibbs' and Stan's line of vision and saw each lower their weapon as they recognised the figure running towards them.

"Get to the car, now!" ordered Gibbs although the command was unnecessary. It was fairly obvious what they needed to do.

Starting the engine, Gibbs backed out of the front yard and slammed the car into gear, the wheels skidding in the gravel as they tore up the dirt road.

Gibbs didn't wait long before he began shouting.

"Where the hell were you!" he yelled, turning around briefly to glare at her in the backseat.

"I saw an old tree house. I thought it might have something in it that could help us."

She didn't stammer, nor did she look away. Jenny was never one to cower even when she knew she was in the wrong.

"I know I messed up," she said, jumping in before Gibbs could start yelling again. "I didn't realize I'd even crossed the boundary. There was a gap in the fence."

Too angry to speak further, Gibbs slammed his fist on the steering wheel and drove the rest of the way in seething silence. For their own part, Stan and Jenny had the good sense to remain mute as well.

By the time they reached the garage, Gibbs was slightly calmer. Handing Stan the few bags of possible evidence they had collected in the house along with the syringes from the tree house, he sent the young man to the forensics lab.

As the elevator doors closed behind Stan, Gibbs stepped forward, waited a few seconds then pushed the button for its return.

They waited in silence. For once, Jenny had no desire to speak.

As the elevator doors opened once again on their level, Gibbs held out his hand.

"My office Shepard," he said curtly, indicating that Jenny should enter first.

Feeling like she was stepping into the lion's den, Jenny entered the metal box, turned and waited for Gibbs to do the same. The hand that reached out and slammed on the emergency stop button didn't surprise her at all.

"What order did I give you before Burley and I entered the house?" demanded Gibbs, wasting no time once the elevator had shuddered to a stop.

"Not to leave the boundary and to let you know if I found anything," replied Jenny quietly.

"What part of that did you not understand, Shepard?"

"None of it," she responded.

"Then tell me what, in God's name, were you doing up a tree, beyond the boundary fence, and without having told me first!"

Jenny swallowed visibly. It wasn't a question and therefore didn't require a response. If Jenny required further confirmation of this, she got it when Gibbs' berating continued. He wasn't yelling but there was no doubt he was seriously angry with her.

"You do realize you could have cost Burley and I our lives? While we were wasting time trying to find you, the three of us could have been in that car and out of danger. Why didn't you warn us?"

This apparently was a question that required an answer.

"I couldn't," replied Jenny. Her voice was steady and clear. "The men were too close. Anything I did or said would have been noticed straight away."

Gibbs breathed heavily through his nostrils, sounding like a angry bull.

"So what happened? What caused the gun shot?" His voice was considerably calmer now and Jenny felt her body relax slightly.

"A buck appeared about two hundred yards in a clearing behind us. They must have been hunting because one of them had a rifle and they seemed prepared to find something they could shoot at. Wouldn't surprise me if they're using the house as a squat. There were the used syringes in the tree house, some of which still had droplets on the ends of the needles. Hopefully we can pull some DNA from them."

Jenny took a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm sorry Gibbs. It was a stupid mistake. I didn't do it deliberately. I honestly didn't register I was out of the boundary. I just saw the tree house and thought it was the best place to start looking."

There was a brief silence, before Gibbs asked, "Did you find anything of value? Apart from the syringes?"

She shook her head.

"No, but I do think they're squatting there and, if this is one of the addresses we were given, I think it would be a good idea to go out there again and confront them, particularly if the DNA identifies one of them as wanted."

"Oh do you?" replied Gibbs dryly. "Well thanks to your carelessness, we may not get a second chance. If those men saw us leave, they'll be suspicious and move camp. We may have lost the only decent lead we've had in over a week."

"I don't think so Gibbs," replied Jenny confidently. "I didn't move until they fired the shot and, then, they were so distracted hunting down their target I'm sure they wouldn't have heard anything happening back at the house."

"Well you'd better hope so, Shepard!" said Gibbs grimly. "Because if this trail goes cold again, I won't be responsible for what happens next."

Once again they were plunged into silence as Jenny waited for further rebuke. If not verbal, then she felt sure Gibbs was about to break his own rule on not head slapping women. As far as spanking her, she put that completely out of her mind. Right now, right here, she knew Gibbs hadn't been serious.

She was completely surprised when Gibbs leaned forward in an attempt to set the elevator going again. This must have been evidenced by her expression because Gibbs stopped and turned to look at her.

"What?" he asked, wondering at her surprised look.

"Is that it?" she asked. "Are we done?"

"We're done," replied Gibbs curtly. "Unless you want another pile of registration numbers to wade through?"

As she continued to stare, Gibbs' level of frustration grew.

"Now what?" he asked more gruffly.

"Nothing," replied Jenny with a smirk. "I guess Stan was right though. Despite all the threats, it appears I am immune to your usual style of discipline."

"I already told you," replied Gibbs. "I don't slap women on the back of the head."

He paused for a moment wondering if she were remembering his other threat. The look on her face told him fairly clearly she most definitely was.

"And, as for the other," he added carefully. "The truth is I don't fancy finding myself up before the Director on a charge of sexual harassment."

Jenny stared at him.

"I wouldn't do that you know," she said soberly. "It's not my style."

"No," agreed Gibbs quietly. "Well, I don't much fancy a kick to the balls either."

"Nor would I do that," replied Jenny.

"No?" questioned Gibbs.

"Despite what you may think of me, and, after that, I'm beginning to wonder what you do think of me, I'm not that kind of woman, Gibbs. If I have a problem with you, you'll know about it from me. And I don't mean physically. I'm not sure if you've noticed or not," a slight smile formed at the corner of her mouth, "I tend to speak my mind."

Gibbs responded with an artfully raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I've noticed."

Laughing despite herself, Jenny rolled her eyes and blushed slightly.

"So," said Gibbs, sobering somewhat. "What you're saying is both my career and my balls are safe?"

"For the time being at least," she replied, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Well, in that case…"

Without further warning, Gibbs took hold of Jenny's arm with his left hand and twisted her sideways. With a force representative of the frustration he had felt at not being able to find her at the shack, he brought it crashing down on her small and unsuspecting backside, pleased when he heard her squeal, if not in pain, than at least in surprise.

He stared at her for a moment while her hands flew to cover her stinging bottom.

"Ow!" she proclaimed loudly. "That hurt!"

"S'pose to," replied Gibbs as he reached for the emergency button and re-started the elevator. "Maybe next time you'll think before wandering off."

Huffing with indignation, Jenny crossed her arms and leaned herself against the back wall of the elevator, ensuring her smarting bottom was well out of reach.

"Didn't think you'd actually do it," she said quietly as they waited for the elevator to reach the squad room floor.

"Neither did I," replied Gibbs, much to Jenny's surprise.

Stepping forward, she slammed on the emergency stop button and turned until she was staring directly at him, brows raised incredulously.

"What?" she asked, although it wasn't really a question.

"Well," replied Gibbs thoughtfully. "I've been sorely tempted, came close a couple of times…"

He looked at her quickly before turning back to face the closed doors.

"But, to be honest, I didn't think I'd do it either."

"So, why did you?" asked Jenny.

"You deserved it," he replied simply.

Feeling her gaze still on him, Gibbs continued, "As I've told you before, I hate official sanctions. If Burley had done what you did, he'd be seeing stars. It was thoughtless and dangerous. To be honest, I was talking myself into whether or not I could head slap a woman when you brought up the conversation by saying you must be immune. I guess it just went from there."

Jenny listened to his words, not sure how to respond but wanting to say something to break the silence.

Gibbs leaned forward and, for the third time, set the elevator in motion.

"At least there's one thing I'm thankful for," he said quietly.

"What's that?" asked Jenny, turning to stare at him once again.

"My balls are still intact."

He gave her a sidelong glance.

"How's my career looking Shepard?" he asked, a restrained smirk just visible.

The elevator came to a shuddering halt and the doors slid open. Jenny stepped out but not before quipping, "Very shaky, Agent Gibbs. Very shaky!"

Gibbs did smile then; a true, unabashed smile that lit his face and settled in the sparkle of his eyes. Watching her march away, the smile turned into a brief snort of laughter before he, too, left the elevator.


	6. Chapter 6

**Yes, I know, it's been a while.**

 **For those of you who are still with me on this one, here is the next chapter. You'll be pleased to know, Chapter 7 has already been started. I hope some of you spare the time to leave a review. They are fuel for my muse and incredibly appreciated xx**

Chapter 6

Gibbs replaced the phone into its holder.

Looking up, he eyed Jenny directly.

"Looks like you were right Shepard," he said, gaining her attention at the mention of her name.

Jenny raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"That was Fornell. The surveillance team staked out by the house in the woods, just reported in. Apparently, the place is still occupied by three men. And, word has it, they're expecting a fourth tonight."

"Simons?" asked Stan, looking up from his computer.

"Guess so," surmised Gibbs. "We'll be arriving out there just after dark. Make sure you're ready to go in an hour.

Jenny and Stan exchanged a look. Both hoped this case would be wrapped up soon.

It had been two days since Jenny's faux par at the house. Two long, frustrating days while they waited on news from the surveillance team. For Jenny, the guilt at knowing she was responsible for possibly tipping off the only lead they'd had, weighted down on her conscience.

"For God's sake," Gibbs had growled after twenty four hours of putting up with Jenny's dark mood. "You made a mistake. Get over it. I have!"

Not bothering to verbally respond, Jenny merely glared at him briefly before returning her gaze to her computer.

Gibbs moved forward and perched himself on the edge of her desk.

"I mean it Shepard," he said gently. "Blaming yourself will only eat into you. What's done is done. We all need to move on. Besides," he added grinning slightly. "All may not be lost. Word from the surveillance team is 'it's business as usual'. We'll hear something more definite tomorrow. Until then, focus on the task at hand and stop dwelling in the past."

Still not convince, Jenny had simply shrugged her shoulders and tried to focus on her work.

Now, having just received the final confirmation from the surveillance team, she found herself unconsciously sighing in relief. It was like her body had been holding its breath for the last 48 hours and could, at long last, resume normal duties.

As the car sped along the dirt road, Gibbs cell rang loudly. Answering it, Jenny and Stan listened to the usual affirmative grunts their leader emitted as he acknowledged the speaker on the other end. Finally, replacing the phone to his top pocket, Gibbs returned his full attention to the road ahead. Knowing he would eventually speak, Jenny and Stan waited impatiently.

"That was the lab," said Gibbs after a few seconds of expectant silence. "DNA's returned on those syringes you grabbed from the tree house."

Gibbs glanced briefly at Jenny who, having managed to call 'shotgun' first, was sitting in the front passenger seat.

"And?" she prompted, frustrated with the slowness in which he delivered anything of significance.

"One of them was positive for Simons."

Jenny's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Really? Wow, didn't expect that. With how meticulous he is about everything, leaving DNA on a syringe seems a little careless."

"Agree," replied Gibbs.

"You think it's a setup, Boss?" asked Stan, leaning forward from the back.

"Dunno. Could be." Gibbs raked a hand through his hair. "We need to be on high alert when we get out there. No room for mistakes. Got it?"

"Yes Boss."

"Yes Gibbs."

As they fell into a comfortable silence, Jenny slouched in her seat. Having already completed a full day's work, she was feeling tired and irritable. Trying to alleviate the ache in her legs, she lifted her feet until they were resting on the dash board and closed her eyes, hoping to catch a quick nap before they arrived.

A sharp sting to the back of her left leg, had her eyes flying open in surprise. Rounding on the only person who could be responsible, she glared at Gibbs.

"What the hell was that for?" she asked angrily.

"If I need to break hard, your knees will finish up planted in your face. And, if that air bag is deployed, you can say goodbye to your career. You'll never walk again."

Knowing what he said made sense but not wanting to admit it, Jenny rolled her eyes but kept her feet where they were for a few seconds longer.

"Do you want another, harder one?" growled Gibbs, his hand positioned to strike.

Feeling her face redden with embarrassment, Jenny sighed loudly but, this time, removed her feet and replaced them on the floor. Hearing a snort of laughter from behind her, Jenny rounded on Stan.

"Shut up, Burley!" she snapped, twisting in her seat.

"Awww, poor Probie," cooed Stan sarcastically. "Did Gibbs smack you? Welcome to my world Shepard!"

Jenny ignored his comment, turning around to face the front. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared out the window and tried not to focus on the sting radiating across the back of her leg.

When they finally pulled into a clearing about three hundred yards away from the house, the three of them exited the car as quietly as possible. The half moon was sitting low in the sky and the stillness in the air only seemed to amplify every sound they made.

"When we make the house, I want you two to wait back while I check the windows for occupants," ordered Gibbs, staring intently at each agent.

"What? No way Boss!" argued Stan. "We can't let you go in alone."

"I won't be going in Burley," hissed Gibbs. "I'm simply get a sit rep."

"But Gibbs," began Jenny, agreeing for once with Stan.

"No buts," growled Gibbs. "I've given you two an order. I expect it to be obeyed. Are we clear?"

After a moment's hesitation Stan, shaking his head in disbelief mumbled, "Yes Boss."

"Shepard?" questioned Gibbs, rounding on Jenny.

"Who's gonna have your back if we're waiting in the shadows?" said Jenny.

"I expect you both to," replied Gibbs. "I'm checking the windows and surrounds, I'm not walking ten miles away. Now," he glared at Jenny, "Are we clear."

When silence was the only response, Gibbs stepped into Jenny's personal space and, if possible, glared even harder at her.

"You either follow my orders Shepard or you wait in the car. I will not take an agent that isn't prepared to do as she's told!"

"Fine!" snapped Jenny. "Go ahead and risk your own life!"

Pushing past both Gibbs and Burley, Jenny slung her backpack over her shoulder and stormed off towards the house. She'd only managed to walk about ten yards before she felt someone pull heavily on the straps of the backpack, stopping her abruptly.

Bending to her level, Gibbs growled quietly in her ear.

"I don't put up with disrespect and I definitely don't put up with tantrums. I thought I made that clear the other day!" Gibbs watched as Jenny's face blushed with embarrassment. "Now, unless you want that lesson repeated, right here and with an audience, I suggest you calm down and stay behind me. Understood?"

Realizing she'd rather be shot than have Burley witness Gibbs' unorthodox method of dealing with her, Jenny gritted her teeth and replied, as congenial as she could, "Yes Gibbs."

"Good," said Gibbs. "Now stay behind me, the pair of you," he added, seeing Stan catch up to them. "I'm expecting you to have my back and that ain't gonna work if you're ten paces in front!"

When the run-down house finally came into view, Gibbs signaled for Jenny and Stan to fall further behind. Stealing ahead, the older agent crept silently towards the side of the house and surreptitiously peered in all the windows along that side as well as the front. Ducking low, he indicated to Jenny and Stan his intention of heading around the back and beckoned them to follow at a safe distance behind. When the house's perimeter had been checked, Gibbs ran stealthily back to his awaiting team members.

"OK," he said quietly, crouching with them behind an old woodshed. "Two men are in the kitchen while a third is in the bedroom on the north-west side." Gibbs pointed to the correct window for further clarification.

"No sign of Simons then?" whispered Stan.

"Not that I could see," replied Gibbs. "But that doesn't mean he isn't there. It could be I just didn't see him."

Stan nodded, concern etched on his face.

"Now here's the plan," continued Gibbs. "Burley, you storm the back door and take the back bedroom. Shepard, you and I hit the kitchen via the front door."

As both agents nodded, Gibbs added, "We take them alive OK? They're our only lead to Simons. No heroics. Take 'em down and cuff 'em. We clear?"

When both agents responded in the affirmative, Gibbs sent Stan to the back of the house. Communicating via earwigs and microphone pieces, Gibbs and Jenny moved into position and waited for Stan to confirm his.

When the confirmation came in, Gibbs said softly, "On three. One….two…..three!"

With a loud crash, both the front and back doors were kicked in simultaneously as the three agents stormed the house.

"NCIS!" they shouted together.

Rushing towards the kitchen with their guns drawn, Jenny and Gibbs entered the small room only to have one of the assailants push past them.

"Cuff him and _stay_ with him" yelled Gibbs, directing Jenny towards the stunned man standing in the middle of the room.

With her gun leveled at his head, Jenny cried out, "Put your hands in the air!" before she glimpsed Gibbs turning tail and chasing the second man into the hall.

Making quick work of bringing her target to his knees and cuffing him, Jenny listened to the sounds of scuffling outside the kitchen and hoped it was Gibbs detaining the escapee. When the grunts and groans continued beyond what she thought was a reasonable length of time, Jenny began to worry. Had something gone wrong? Was Gibbs in trouble?

Leaving her captive lying face down on the floor, Jenny crept to the kitchen door and peered around into the hall. It was empty. Further sounds of scuffling could be heard from the back bedroom, the one she knew Burley had been assigned.

Glancing briefly at the prisoner cuffed on the floor, Jenny raised her gun and crept out of the safety of the kitchen and into the hallway. She had only taken two steps forward when an arm was suddenly wrapped around her neck and, to her horror, she felt the blade of a knife pierce the soft skin near her throat.

"Drop the weapon."

The voice in her ear was low and menacing. As she hesitated a sharp pain stabbed near her jugular and she was unsure as to whether the trickle of drops she felt was blood or sweat. Probably a mixture of both, she thought sardonically.

Giving her no option but to obey, Jenny dropped the gun and was thankful for the loud clattering noise it made as it hit the floor. Within seconds, the face of Stan Burley peered through the opening to the back bedroom. Gun raised and leveled at her captor's head, Jenny couldn't help but noticed the way Stan's face paled as he took in the face of the man who held her tightly.

"Let her go, Simons," demanded Stan and Jenny's heart sank.

Not realizing until that moment how much she had hoped it was Gibbs' escapee that held her captive, she forced down the fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

"You've got nowhere to go, Simons," reasoned Stan. "You kill her, I kill you. Let her go and we have some chance at making a deal."

"Deal?" scoffed Simons. "Do you honestly think I believe I have any chance at a deal?"

Jenny listened to the cold, ruthless voice. His rotting breath assailed her nostrils and the smell of both stale and fresh sweat permeated her every sense. This man was pure evil and nothing but a bullet was going to stop him. Of that, Jenny was sure.

"This little lady here is my only way out," Simons continued. "Now we all know how it goes. You're not going to sacrifice her life for mine."

His arrogance was evident in the cockiness of his voice and Jenny knew he spoke the truth. She tried to keep her wits about her, tried to think rationally but all she could focus on was the feel of the knife against her throat and the strength with which he held her. She had no chance of escape.

"So," continued Simons. "Why don't you place the gun on the floor and turn around? I'll make sure I leave the little lady somewhere you can find her. I can't guarantee her condition of course."

He laughed then. A cruel, self-crazed sound that filled Jenny with both terror and desolation. She knew, if Stan did as Simons demanded, he was sanctioning her death. There would be no escaping the clutches of this psychopath. And so, as her only chance of survival slowly lowered his hand to the floor, Jenny experienced a feeling of hopelessness and fear she never thought possible. As she felt the arm around her neck tighten in readiness to drag her backwards, Jenny decided she was not going to go quietly. If it meant her death here and now, so be it. She was not going to die alone in the woods under the cruel hands of this monster.

As she took a deep breath in preparedness to fight, a whirl of color and sound assaulted her senses. Just as Stan's hand should have release its hold on the gun, it instead lifted slightly and a bullet fired from the barrel embedding itself in Simons left leg. Feeling her captor stagger, a second ear splitting explosion echoed from somewhere behind her and, without warning, the arm around her neck slackened as the body to which it was attached fell to the side, taking her with it.

Dazed and wondering what had just happened, Jenny was about to raise herself from the floor when a different set of arms held her down.

"Are you hurt?" The voice was gruff, allowing her to identify its owner but the concern she heard was very out of character.

"I'm….I'm fine," she stammered only just realizing, herself, the truth to her words.

Gibbs ran his hand over her body, assessing her for any damage. When he reached her neck, the softness with which his finger caressed the contours of her throat sent a wave of emotion through Jenny causing her to blink rapidly. The last thing she wanted to do now was cry, lest she find herself unable to stop. But, his hands were in such contrast to the ones that had held her only minutes before she felt the emotion suddenly overwhelm her. Pushing his hands away with more force than she knew the situation warranted, Jenny made a second attempt to stand.

"I'm fine," she repeated.

Standing in front of him and locking eyes, Jenny didn't miss the unspoken words Gibbs' look conveyed and the only response she could give, without breaking down, was to look away.

Turning his back on the scene, Gibbs pulled out his cell and dialed the number for the first of many calls he would make that night while Jenny and Stan assembled the three living prisoners in the one room.

It was several hours later before the three of them were back in the squad room. During that time, Jenny had been forced to relive the events leading up to Simons death over and over again in her mind, unable to focus on anything else. Gibbs has explicitly told her to stay in the kitchen, she rebuked herself. Yes, but what if Stan had needed help, she couldn't just stay put and ignore the sounds she'd heard, the other part of her rationality argued. But, he hadn't needed help and her interference had only jeopardized their mission. The arguments and counter arguments played in her head until she felt ready to scream just to silence them.

In addition to the pain of her own self assessments, other than to bark an occasion directive, Gibbs hadn't spoken a word to her. And, as luck would have it, she was unable to read his mood. Was he angry, disappointed, relieved? Or was he just thankful the case was over and they were going home? Jenny didn't reckon on the last being the sum of Gibbs' current state of mind.

As Stan gathered his things from behind his desk and slung his backpack over his shoulder, he glanced at both Jenny and Gibbs.

"Well," he said, tiredness consuming his tone. "I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Gibbs nodded.

"Good work today, Burley," he said, the praise just evident through the gruffness of the voice.

"Thanks," replied Stan. Praise from Gibbs was so rare, the agent wasn't entirely sure how to respond. So, he simply nodded and smiled before walking towards the elevator.

When Gibbs turned back to his own desk, he noticed Jenny had taken a seat behind her own and was flicking on her computer.

"What are doing Shepard?" he asked, surprised she wasn't gathering her things and racing Burley to the elevator. "Go home."

"I… um…I want to write up my report before I forget what happened?" she muttered feebly, cringing at her own choice of words.

"You likely to forget tonight's proceedings?" Gibbs asked incredulously not, for one minute, believing her excuse to stay behind.

Jenny lowered her head.

"I guess not," she replied quietly.

They remained there, the silence between them palpable until, finally, Jenny opened her mouth to speak.

"Go home, Shepard," said Gibbs wearily, cutting her off before she had chance to verbalize her thoughts.

"But Gibbs," began Jenny.

"I said, go home," he repeated.

She looked up and met his gaze. It was hard and unwavering and Jenny knew there was absolutely no point in trying to argue further.

Sighing deeply, she held down the button on her computer until she heard a soft click and the motor shut down. Grabbing her purse from the desk drawer and the jacket from around her chair, Jenny stepped out from behind her desk and found herself within inches of Gibbs' strong frame.

"I…"

She didn't know why she'd even tried again to initiate a conversation. It was obvious from Gibbs' demeanor he wasn't about to discuss anything with her tonight.

"Just go, Jenny," said Gibbs softly.

It was the first time he had used her Christian name and it certainly didn't go unnoticed by the owner. Wishing the circumstances had been very different, Jenny reluctantly accepted his words and turned her back on the squad room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Once again, I was overwhelmed by all the wonderful, supportive and encouraging reviews. You really are the best bunch of readers a fanfic writer could hope for. Thank you sincerely.**

 **It was those reviews which kept me inspired to 'nut' through this chapter. It was difficult to write and I only hope I have managed to convey the complexity of both Gibbs and, especially, Jenny's feelings, demonstrating that, often times, the reality is nothing like the fantasy created in one's mind. The angst WILL be resolved in the next chapter. I just need to write it - lol!**

 **PS - Please remember, at this stage, their relationship is still one of boss and 'Probie'. The spanking Jenny receives is pure discipline. It's distant and mechanical. As their friendship and subsequent romantic relationship begins to blossom and change, so too will the spankings. There are so many different ways a spanking can be delivered and received. There is no such thing as 'just a spanking'.**

 **Enjoy :)**

Chapter 7

The next morning, as Jenny dragged herself towards her desk, she was surprised and relieved to see Gibbs' desk devoid of human of life.

"God, you look awful," remarked Stan, looking up from his paperwork.

Jenny gave him a withering look.

"Gee, thanks," she replied sarcastically.

Putting her purse in the bottom drawer, Jenny sat wearily on her chair and stared vacantly at the blank computer screen. Sighing, she reached out and pressed the button admiring the way the machine suddenly burst into life and wished she had a similar button that morning.

"No, I'm serious," continued Stan, rising from his desk and sauntering his way towards hers. Perching himself on the corner he surveyed her with genuine concern. "Are you sick?"

"No, I'm fine," replied Jenny, not meeting his gaze.

Searching for the right words, she continued, "I'm just…tired. Yesterday was a long day and last night was….intense."

"Ain't that the truth," agreed Stan, his eyebrows rising as he spoke. "Not to mention you-"

"So, where's Gibbs?" asked Jenny, cutting Stan off before he could finish the sentence. She didn't want to relive the horrors of last night, especially not with Stan.

"Ah….he's upstairs with Morrow," replied Stan, a little surprised by Jenny's abrupt change of subject. "Probably going through the events of last night. Speaking of which –"

"Stan, I don't want to talk about it, OK?" said Jenny, interrupting him for a second time. "I just want to fill out my report and get on with my work."

"Morrow will expect a debrief. If Gibbs doesn't do it, then it's the shrink."

Jenny looked up in horror.

"Why? I'm fine!" she replied defensively.

"You nearly died last night, Shepard," said Stan pointedly. "If Gibbs hadn't shown up like he did, I wouldn't have taken that shot. And you looked ready to fight. God knows what would have happened. You don't just 'get over that' without some kind of debriefing."

"Well you might not, but I do! I don't need to _debrief_ with anyone thank you very much, especially not any shrink." Her words were final and the disdain she used when saying the word 'debrief' informed Stan that Gibbs was going to have a fight on his hands.

Shaking his head in resignation, Stan returned to his desk.

They worked in silence, each completing their report on the events of last night. While many might have found the task cathartic, Jenny found the effort needed to put the incident in writing, analyse her actions and defend her decisions was, instead, an arduous business. She knew she had made a huge mistake in leaving the kitchen. But, what if Gibbs had needed her help, or Stan, and she'd just ignored them?

Round and round her thought processes went, trying to justify her actions. When she could take it no longer, she shoved her chair away from her desk in frustration and stormed from the room.

Looking up from his work space, Stan could only sympathize with their new Probie. God knows he'd made some mistakes in his time, still did for that matter. And Gibbs usually dealt with it swiftly. A blistering but justified reprimand followed by a stinging smack to the back of head did wonders for clearing both his mind and the air. However, judging from Jenny's pent up emotions and Gibbs' absence from the squad room, Stan could only surmise his fearless leader was either unsure of how to proceed with their young recruit or was avoiding the situation. Stan was fairly certain he was correct on both accounts. But, unless he wanted to spend the next week recovering in the hospital's head trauma unit, it wasn't worth his while to point out his conclusions to Gibbs. So, instead, he returned to his report, silently hoping the two would sort out their differences quickly.

"Where's Shepard?"

The question startled Stan and he looked up at Gibbs blankly.

"It's a simple question, Burley," growled Gibbs. "Where's Shepard?"

"Ah, not sure Boss," replied Stan.

He'd been so engrossed in his report he'd actually forgotten Jenny had stormed out quite some time ago. Looking at his watch, he realized she'd been missing for nearly an hour.

Gibbs raised an eye brow and glared at him.

"I mean, she left about….um….a little while ago….but didn't say where she was going," he elaborated, realizing he really wasn't adding anything new to the situation.

"How long is 'a little while ago'?" asked Gibbs.

"Oh….um…." Stan stalled, not wanting to get Jenny into any more trouble than she already was.

"Burley!" yelled Gibbs.

"About an hour ago, Boss," concluded Stan.

Turning his focus from Stan to the elevator, Gibbs rolled his eyes and abruptly left the squad room. As the loud 'ding' signified Gibbs' entrance into the small metal box, Stan let out the breath he'd been holding and slumped his shoulders in resignation.

"I tried Probie," he said softly.

Not even bothering to stop at the lab, Gibbs took the elevator straight down to Ducky in autopsy. He knew the Medical Examiner had a soft spot for the feisty red-head and anticipated the feeling was mutual.

On entering the cold, sterile room, Gibbs frowned as his eyes surveyed the space. Ducky was there, having just emerged from the small room he called his office but there was no sign of his AWOL agent. Thinking his 'gut' must have failed him for the first time ever, he was about to exit when he heard the soft 'whoosh' of the bathroom door automatically sliding open. Relieved, as much for his 'gut' then anything else, Gibbs leveled Jenny with a glare.

"Now, now, Jethro," began Ducky good naturedly, stepping between the glaring man and his most recent companion. "Ms Shepard and I have just been enjoying a cup of tea. Did you know, the Colonel drank English Breakfast tea every morning and encouraged young Jennifer to do the same?"

Gibbs turned to Ducky and frowned incredulously.

"How on earth could I possibly know that?" he asked, clearly making it known he thought the question was ridiculous.

"Well, of course, you couldn't," replied Ducky as Jenny came to stand next to him. "Unless you were specifically discussing tea with someone, I suspect it could be something you might never know."

"Duck…," began Gibbs impatiently but Ducky cut him off with a wave of his hand.

Turning to Jenny, he grasped her small hand in his.

"It was lovely chatting with you my dear," he said warmly. "But I'm sure you have much better things to be doing than keeping an old man company."

Jenny smiled and Gibbs noticed how easily it reached her green eyes, making them dance and sparkle even under the harsh lights of autopsy.

"You're not old, Ducky," she chided softly. "Far from it."

Reaching over, she kissed the M.E. gently on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said quietly in his ear. Then, as a second smile spread across her face she added, "For both the tea and sympathy."

"Anytime my dear," replied Ducky patting her hand.

As Jenny turned to leave, Ducky called out.

"Oh, Jennifer." He paused and waited until she was facing him again. "Next time, give me a quick bell before you plan to head down and I make sure the tables are clear."

He winked at her and was rewarded with sheepish grin before she turned and left the room.

"Poor girl," said Ducky, as the elevator doors closed quietly. "I was in the middle of my most recent meat puzzle when she walked it. Never seen an agent turn so green and, believe me, I've seen a few in my time."

As he spoke, Ducky opened several drawers and pulled out tables on which lay various sections of body parts comprising torn flesh, carved muscle and broken bones.

"Geez Duck," remarked Gibbs, surveying the carnage before him. "How many this time?"

"Bodies?" replied Ducky cheerfully, busying himself with finding the correct instrument from a tray of stainless steel objects. "Oh, I don't know, at least three, possibly even four if that over there is what I suspect it is."

Ducky pointed to what looked like a left thumb and forefinger.

Gibbs shook his head at Ducky's casualness and turned to leave the room.

"Ah, before you go Jethro," called Ducky, halting the Special Agent in his tracks. "I'd like a quick word."

Thinking any 'word' from Ducky was never quick, Gibbs turned back and faced the M.E.

Ducky stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and saying softly, "Ah, Jethro, this won't do, you know."

"What?" barked Gibbs impatiently.

"The way you're treating young Jennifer. It's not like you."

"The way I'm treating _her_ ," said Gibbs, his voice rising several octaves in defense of his actions. "You do realize she almost got herself killed last night not to mention putting Burley and myself in danger as well!"

"Yes, she told me," replied Ducky calmly. "But, what I want to know is, why haven't you dealt with this yet? If this was young Stanley, things would have been sorted out hours ago and you'd both be getting on with it. I might not always agree with your methods, Jethro but I do have to admit, they generally work."

There was short silence following Ducky's words before Gibbs sighed deeply and slumped into a nearby chair.

"Ah Duck," he said wearily. "That's the problem. I don't know how to deal with it. Sure, I could report her, have her suspended from duty for a couple of days. But you know that's not me. It's a waste of a good agent. Rule number five, you don't-"

"Waste good," finished Ducky. "Yes, yes, I know. But Jethro, I'm not talking about official sanctions. Why not treat her like you do the others? Glare, reprimand and finish with a good old smack across the back of the head. Works wonders for Stanley."

Again, Gibbs sighed deeply.

"That's just it Duck," he said softly. "I can't."

Ducky frowned.

"Can't what?" he asked, confusion evident from the look on his face.

"I can't treat her the same as Burley. Oh, I can glare and yell but I just can't bring myself to whack her across the head. It just doesn't seem right."

Gibbs' mind traced back to their recent confrontation in the elevator. He really didn't think he'd get away with swatting her a second time and, in all honesty, her blatant disregard of her own safety and that of the team, not to mention failing to follow a simple order for the second time that week, deserved more than a single swat.

Returning his focus to Ducky he noticed his friend was nodding his head and smirking.

"What now?" asked Gibbs, slightly offended by the older man's reaction.

"Ah Jethro," Ducky lamented, patting his friend sympathetically on the shoulder. "Regardless of how many times we hear the cry for equal rights, you and I will always remain the same. A couple of old chauvinists."

Gibbs, ready to protest Ducky's judgement, thought better of it, snorted quietly and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I guess," he acquiesced. "So, what do I do Duck?"

"That, my friend, is only something you can decide," said Ducky sagely. "The way I see it, you have two choices. The tried and true method of old or the official path. But whichever you do choose, do it quickly. That girl is tearing herself apart with guilt and uncertainty and, to be frank my dear boy, you're not fairing much better. You both need closure and you need it soon!"

Gibbs smiled briefly. He could always rely on Ducky to tell it how it was, regardless of how long it took him to actually get there.

Taking the older man's hand, he squeezed it appreciatively.

"Thanks Duck," he said with genuine affection.

He stepped away and headed towards the exit.

"Any time, Jethro, anytime."

As he took the elevator back up to the squad room, Gibbs' mind was a whir of doubt and confusion. He knew he should have dealt with this last night. He'd had the perfect opportunity once Burley had left. Even Jenny's lingering told him she expected retribution of some form. But, seeing her in Simons' clutches, the knife pressed against her neck, had stirred in him something he had not experience since Shannon. A fear so great he thought it would consume him followed by a primeval urge to protect at all cost. It had scared the hell out him. He thought he'd successfully buried those feelings seven years ago. They hurt too damn much.

Yet, here was this five foot three hellion that challenged him at every turn and, without any warning, had awoken within him a desire so strong it had literally stopped him in his tracks. He'd never not known how to deal with an agent. His unorthodox methods might seem harsh at times but they worked. It was how he maintained the reputation of having the best Major Case Response Team in the building.

Frustrated with his own inability to resolve this, he reached out and hit the emergency stop button. Leaning against the back wall of the elevator, Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, willing the pounding headache to abate long enough for him to figure out how he was going to deal with Ms Shepard. His gut was telling him to haul her into a private room and blister first her ears with a damn good telling off and then her backside. So, what was stopping him he thought. A law suit for one. Despite her assurances to the contrary, he didn't think even he could get away with a second time. The swat in the elevator has been a light-hearted warning and her reaction had been more one of surprise than outrage. But this time would be different. This time would be deliberate, calculated and planned.

Gibbs checked himself. This time? Was he seriously considering this? Yeah, he thought, he was. He had to. If he didn't address her recklessness and disobedience, he would be doing them both a disservice. Ducky was right, they both needed closure. And they needed it as soon as possible. He would give her a choice. She could choose the official path if she wanted. He knew he was giving her an option no previous agent had been privileged to receive but even he could see a marked difference between a smack on the back of the head and a hand across the backside, especially her backside, he thought wryly. Shaking off the image of how perfectly she filled out a pair of jeans, Gibbs resumed the elevator to a working condition and hoped he'd made the right decision.

Entering their work space, Gibbs strode purposefully to his filing cabinet.

Interrupted by the sudden movement, Stan and Jenny looked up from their tasks and watched as Gibbs opened a drawer and rifled through a couple of files. Finally pulling out a sheet of paper, he grabbed a pen from his desk and, pausing only long enough to bark, "Shepard, with me!", he left the area just as abruptly.

Paling at Gibbs' command, Jenny eyes flittered first to Stan then back to the retreating figure of her boss.

"You'd better go," hissed Stan, seeing Jenny hadn't yet moved.

Rallying herself into action, the young agent squared her shoulders and mustered enough courage to stand with dignity before stepping around her desk and walking calming towards the corridor she'd just seen Gibbs enter. Finally catching sight of him, Jenny found herself almost jogging in order to catch up. She could see they were headed towards interrogation but, as they passed the two rooms they frequently used, Jenny found herself headed down a part of the building she hadn't seen before.

"Will you slow down please?" she called out irritably. "Unless we're training for the next Olympics, I don't see the point in walking this quickly."

Her words fell on deaf ears as Gibbs continued the cracking pace. Jenny even wondered suspiciously if the man had, in fact, increased his speed just to annoy her. After two turns down corridors unknown, Gibbs finally stopped and opened a large steel-framed door. Standing back, he indicated she should enter the room.

Never once doubting her trust in Gibbs, Jenny stepped into the entrance eyed the room suspiciously.

"Where the hell are we?" she asked as she cautiously entered the room.

"The old interrogation rooms," replied Gibbs. Pulling the door closed, he pushed the locks in place ensuring no one would be able to enter from the outside.

Jenny looked around. Other than the absence of a two-way mirror and sound equipment, the room didn't look much different to those they currently used. In the center stood a large wooden table. Tucked under each of the two longer sides of the table, was an uncomfortable looking straight-backed wooden chair.

"Why on earth are we here?" she asked, tracing her hand over the smooth wooden table.

"For privacy," replied Gibbs in a clipped voice.

He pulled out the closest chair.

"Sit," he barked and, as she did so, she watched as he brought the second chair around the table and placed it opposite her so that, when he sat, the large wooden table was no longer between them.

"What's going on?" asked Jenny.

She casually crossed one leg over the other hoping that, despite the butterflies somersaulting in her stomach, she may give the illusion of being both calm and in control, two emotions she was particularly struggling with now. On reflection, however, she was comforted by the fact that at no time did she feel frightened, intimidated or threatened by the man sitting so close to her who, quite clearly, was not pleased with something and Jenny was fairly certain the 'something' was her. She indubitably felt nervous and a little apprehensive as to what was about to happen. But, even considering the isolation of where they were, she felt safe with Gibbs and trusted him implicitly.

Ignoring her question, Gibbs laid the piece of paper he had been holding on the table in front of them.

"What's that?" asked Jenny, trying for a question Gibbs might actually answer.

"It's a form. One I should be filling out. It officially reports your recent inability to follow directions which, in turn, almost cost you your life."

Jenny's heart leapt in her throat and she felt all the blood drain from her face. Swallowing down her fear of being fired, she summoned all the strength she had to look at him and reply calmly, "I didn't think you believed in official sanctions?"

"I don't," replied Gibbs brusquely

"Then…?" began Jenny, confused.

"I'm giving you a choice, Shepard," explained Gibbs. "Something I have never, before, given one of my team. If you were any other agent, I'd have smacked you upside the head so hard your ears would be ringing for at least a week."

Unable to resist the barb, Jenny said under her breath, "Any other _male_ agent."

For a second Gibbs could only stare at her. He couldn't believe her audacity. Despite knowing how much trouble she was in, she still had enough nerve to engage in back-chat. Surprisingly though, it didn't anger him further, it simply cemented his gut feeling that she was going to make one hell of a good agent one day.

"Exactly," he agreed, much to Jenny's surprise. "And, while we have discussed alternate means of punishment, I want to make sure you know exactly what that means."

Gibbs watched as Jenny shuffled uncomfortably on the chair and a deep blush spread across her cheeks.

"I er," she cleared her throat before continuing. "I think we have already discussed what your alternate methods entail."

It took all of Gibbs' self-control to not grin at her obvious discomfort in speaking the words. If it were possible, she had blushed an even deeper shade of red. However, previous discussions aside, he had to be one hundred percent sure she agreed to what he had planned.

Standing, Gibbs pushed his chair slightly back and leaned on the table with both palms flat against its surface. This put him at eye level with his blushing agent.

"Before we get into the discipline you deserve, I want to first get a few things clear. What the hell did you think you were doing last night!" The words had started out reasonably calm but, as Gibbs had progressed through the sentences, his voice had risen sharply and, by the end, he was all but yelling.

Surprised by the sudden change in tactic, Jenny could only stammer out an attempt at an answer.

"I...er….that is….I…"

She wasn't used to having someone standing directly in her personal space while yelling at her and she found the experience difficult to say the least. However, the answer he sought was something she had gone over and over in her head. And so, taking a deep breath, Jenny ignored the close proximity with which he now stood and put her full concentration into remembering the words she had rehearsed so many times since last night.

"I cuffed and secured the prisoner as per your orders and was waiting for further instruction. However, from outside the kitchen, I heard scuffling sounds and grunts and groans that sounded like someone in distress. Wondering if either you or Burley needed assistance, I crept to the entrance of the kitchen and peered out into the hall. On seeing it empty, I was about to return to my place in the kitchen when I heard more scuffling and sounds of distress coming from the back bedroom. Knowing this was Burley's assigned room, I was concerned he may be in trouble and possibly needed back-up. I drew my gun and slowly entered the hall, my intention being to help. That's when…."

For the first time since beginning the practiced dialogue, Jenny stumbled over her words.

"That's when," she repeated, "When Simon's grabbed me."

There was a heavy silence as Gibbs took in what she'd just said.

Finally, he spoke.

"When you saw the hall was empty but heard noise from the back bedroom, why didn't you call out? Verbally check that Burley needed assistance?"

"I didn't wish to alert anyone to my presence," said Jenny. "If something had happened and Burley, or yourself, needed assistance, using the element of surprise was my best chance."

Conceding she was right, on this point at least, Gibbs nodded briefly.

"Did you clear the hall before entering it," he asked.

"Yes, of course I did," snapped Jenny. "And, obviously, I thought it was empty."

"Could you identify the groans as coming from Burley?" asked Gibbs.

Jenny lowered her head causing Gibbs to frown.

"Shepard?"

Closing her eyes against what she knew was going to be the final nail in her coffin, Jenny sighed. Looking up, she stared directly at Gibbs and said quietly, "I knew it wasn't Burley."

"What?"

She knew Gibbs had heard correctly.

"I knew the groans weren't coming from Burley," she repeated, her voice slightly louder.

"Did you think they were from me?" asked Gibbs.

Tempted to say 'yes', Jenny knew how Gibbs felt about lying. She was also very aware of how easily he seemed to know when someone was speaking an untruth.

"No," she admitted, almost hearing the last nail being hammered.

"So, if you knew it was neither myself nor Burley, why did you feel the need to offer back-up?"

Despite the calmness in his voice, Jenny could sense Gibbs was building up to something bigger.

"I….." she began shakily. "I thought whichever of you it was, might have needed my help to secure the prisoner."

Jenny dropped her gaze. Having recognized both disappointment and anger in the blue eyes that glared at her, she was unable to maintain eye contact.

Gibbs pushed away from the table and straightened his body. Walking to the back of the room, he silently counted to five before addressing her again. Turning around, he leaned against the back wall and glared at Jenny.

"So, let me get this straight," he began.

He paused, waiting for her to look up. When it became clear she had no intention of doing so, Gibbs stepped forward and slapped his hand down on the table.

"Eyes forward Probationary Agent Shepard," he barked loudly.

It did the trick. Jenny's head shot up and her green eyes met his. However, there was no sign of fear, intimidation or immanent tears. The steely glare she directed at him showed a level of courage few in her situation could muster. And, again, he found himself impressed with her strength of character.

With her attention now focused, Gibbs continued.

"So, despite knowing that neither myself nor Burley was in any immediate danger, you still took it upon yourself to disobey a direct order and leave the area in which you were told to stay. Is that correct?"

"Yes," replied Jenny.

"And, in doing so, you fell captive to one of the worst serial killers this decade has ever seen," added Gibbs, his voice rising as his anger became more obvious.

He stepped forward and, once again, leaned on the table and subsequently into her personal space.

"You did see those crime scene photos, didn't you? You saw what he did to those women?"

"You know I did," she said with deliberate accusation.

"Well, I have to wonder," continued Gibbs, sarcasm now mixing with the anger. "I would have thought anyone with half a brain would have been on extreme high alert knowing what that bastard was capable of. Oh, but not Probationary Agent Jenny Shepard. No, she prefers to ignore any orders that might, actually, keep her safe."

She knew she deserved a blistering reprimand and was willing to accept this graciously. But even she had her limits. The patronizing scorn that dripped from his latest rant was not necessary and she was not afraid to tell him so.

"There's no need to be sarcastic, Agent Gibbs."

Her words were clipped and warned Gibbs she'd had enough.

"I know what I did was stupid," she admitted clearly.

"Do you?" he all but yelled.

"Yes," she replied between gritted teeth. "I get it!"

A heavy silence fell between them as Gibbs contemplated his next move. Realizing the time for talking was done, he pushed the sheet of paper forward.

"You have two choices, Shepard," he said tersely. "The official route or the non-official. However, before you decide, let's just be very clear on what the non-official route involves."

Despite the return of Jenny's blush, Gibbs pushed forward saying. "This is going to require more than just a single swat-"

"But how is that fair?" interrupted Jenny. "If it was Burley, you'd only hit him once across the back of the head!"

"You ever been hit across the back of the head before?" asked Gibbs.

"No, but –"

"Depending on the force behind the whack, it's extremely painful to say the least. While Burley may joke about seeing stars, I know for a fact that on several occasions it has been an accurate assessment."

"But that's barbaric," retorted Jenny. "Not to mention dangerous."

"Burley has a hard head. Trust me, he can take it," replied Gibbs.

"I still don't think it's fair that, in exchange for a single whack, I should be subjected to a full-blown beating!" said Jenny tersely.

"Let's get one thing very clear, Agent Shepard," said Gibbs, just as tersely. "This is not, nor will it ever be, a beating. This is a spanking. There is a huge difference between the two as I know you are more than fully aware."

"Whatever you choose to call it," continued Jenny, intent of securing her argument. "I don't believe it's fair to trade one whack for a multiple attack."

"So, what would you call a fair number?" asked Gibbs, putting the ball back in her court.

Surprised by his question, Jenny was forced to stop and think before responding.

"Well, I guess that is dependent on the incident," she finally supplied.

"Agreed," said Gibbs. "And, in this particular incident? Bearing in mind you deliberate disobeyed an order simply because you didn't trust either myself or Burley to handle things on our own."

"I didn't –" began Jenny angrily.

"You said, you knew it was neither myself nor Burley that sounded in distress," argued Gibbs, raising his voice above hers. "That can only mean one thing. You did not trust us to have the situation in hand."

Scowling vehemently, Jenny conceded defeat and chose not to argue any further.

"So?" prompted Gibbs. "How many?"

Despite herself, Jenny felt the traitorous blush spread across her cheeks once again. It was a ridiculous question. How the hell was she supposed to name her own sentence. It was ludicrous.

"If you don't give me an idea, I'll have to come up with a number myself," continued Gibbs. "Six? Eight? Ten?"

"Four!" yelled Jenny wildly. Ten? What the hell was the man thinking!

Gibbs gave her suggestion a brief consideration.

"I think that's fair," he agreed, smirking at her discomfort. He'd had no intention of going above five but, like any skilled auctioneer, he needed to start the bidding high.

Suddenly wise to his method, Jenny glared at him angrily.

"You don't play fair, Agent Gibbs," she snarled.

"May I remind you, Ms Shepard, it wasn't me that disobeyed a direct order."

"Whatever," replied Jenny, her frustration levels rising steadily. "Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

"First things first," said Gibbs.

He reached out and turned over the piece of paper which was sitting on the desk. Taking the pen from his shirt pocket, he proceeded to scribble something out on the back of the form.

Staring into space with unseeing eyes, Jenny couldn't believe where this day had taken her. When she'd woken that morning, she knew she would need to face some form of consequence for her reckless behavior last night but, in all honesty, she hadn't reckoned on a spanking.

A spanking.

For many years, Jenny has secretly fantasized about this very situation; roll-played the scenario so many times, the fantasy no longer held any link to reality. And yet, here she sat, facing a very certain future. If it wasn't for the fact it would look ridiculously stupid, she was tempted to pinch herself to check she wasn't dreaming.

On reflection, she couldn't pin-point when her interest in spanking had first revealed itself. As far as she knew, it had always been there, almost as if she were wired that way. Even as a small child she could remember being fascinated with any talk of spanking on the TV, especially if the talking led to an actual on screen spanking of one of the characters. But, despite the interest, at that young age she didn't particularly want to receive a spanking. In fact, when it came to her father or any other person of authority, she avoided being spanked at all costs.

It was around the age of twelve, she thought, just on a cusp of puberty, when she first felt those oh so familiar tingles of pleasure surface. She had been watching the movie 'Blue Hawaii' on TV while half-heartedly completing a homework assignment on the coffee table in the living room. Only partially listening to the dialogue, she suddenly found her attention drawn to the screen when she heard the character played by Elvis Presley, utter those fateful words; 'What you need is a good old fashioned spanking!' Her stomach jolted as her eyes snapped up to watch the scene play out. Desperately praying no one would enter the living room, she stared spellbound at the screen as the young heroine was pulled over the man's knee and soundly spanked while she kicked and struggled against the relentless hand. Without warning, Jenny suddenly felt a pang of desire and a rush of pleasure she'd never before experienced. She wanted to be that young girl. She wanted to be pulled over that muscular thigh and, for the first time ever, she fantasized how it would feel to have her bottom spanked by that heavy hand.

Initially confused by her feelings, she wondered why on earth this would be something she could possibly desire. Not understanding what was happening inside her body, Jenny tried to push the feelings away but, her appetite had been teased and suddenly she craved more.

Watching old movies became her new favorite pastime in the hope of witnessing another spanking scene. She quickly learned that 1950s and 1960s Westerns were usually her best chance of seeing a feisty young lady hauled over the knee of some ruggedly handsome cowboy.

It was around the age of fifteen when a new love caught her attention; romance novels. As with all the other girls in her peer level, Jenny found herself swooning over the strong, athletic hero as he won the heart of the simpering maiden. Having discovered her first printed spanking scene in a Harlequin historical romance, Jenny had practically devoured every historical romance book she could find in her local library and second hand book store.

From that point on, her imagination was captured. With all her research of movies and novels, she had a wide range of scenarios with which to use to create fantasy after fantasy. And create she did.

Yet, never once, in any of her scenarios, did she feel the way she did now. Pulling herself back to reality, Jenny felt like a complete fool. She had made a decision based on her own self-importance. A decision which had, not only jeopardized her own life, but also that of her teammates. And, with that knowledge came a heavy sense of guilt that tore at Jenny's heart.

Gone was the fluttering stomach, the tingles of arousal, the flow of moisture pooling between her legs. Right now, all Jenny felt was self-loathing for what she could have cost the team.

In addition, was a rising apprehension of what she was about to experience. Playful swats were one thing. This was very different. It wasn't fear she was feeling, she knew that for certain. Not once did she fear Gibbs would really hurt her. If she had to liken it to anything she had previously experienced, it would be akin to facing her father when she'd been caught in some misdemeanor she knew had truly disappointed him. And it was that disappointment she now saw in Gibbs' eyes that kept her grounded and remorseful.

And, finally, unlike her implausible and ridiculous fantasies, there now rose in Jenny the feeling of humiliation at having to succumb to a child's punishment. An embarrassment so strong she felt she would die of shame.

"I need you to read this through and, if you agree, sign it."

Gibbs voice startled her back to reality. Staring at the pen he held out to her, Jenny tried to figure out what Gibbs wanted her to do.

"What was that?" she asked, thinking it best he repeat his instruction.

"Read and sign," he said bluntly, shoving the paper in front of her.

Reading it quickly, Jenny realized it was a consent form. Seeing her punishment set out, word for word in front of her, Jenny blushed deeper than she thought possible.

"Is this really necessary?" she asked, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

"Yes," replied Gibbs curtly. "I don't want there to be any doubt as what is about to happen. Nor, do I want to be suddenly faced with a law suit."

"I told you once before, I wouldn't do that," said Jenny softly.

"Well, I'm not taking any chances," replied Gibbs.

Taking the pen, Jenny cringed as she read through the explicit pronouncement of her upcoming punishment. Wanting the whole thing to be over as quickly as possible, she hurriedly signed her name, sealing her fate.

"Right, now that's out of the way," said Gibbs, standing up and pushing his chair back from the table. "I'd like you stand."

Doing as she was asked, Jenny felt as if her knees were about to give way. Steadying herself with one hand on the table, she finally made eye contact with Gibbs.

"Why are you about to be spanked?" asked Gibbs.

The question startled her and, for a minute she wasn't sure how to respond. Finally, finding her voice she said, "Can't we just get this over with? We both know what I did, I told you not five minutes ago."

"Considering the position you're about to be in, I would drop with the attitude if I were you," rebuked Gibbs sternly.

With her heart now pounding in her chest, Jenny swallowed nervously before saying, "I disobeyed a direct order. I thought I knew better and, as such, I put both my life and the life of the team, in danger."

Gibbs ignored the hint of attitude in her tone and nodded approvingly.

Stepping around Jenny, he stopped when he was on her left-hand side.

"I want you to lean over the table with your upper body flat against the surface hands out in front," instructed Gibbs.

Feeling like she would die of embarrassment, Jenny positioned herself in front of the table. Fervently wishing she'd worn heavy denim jeans that morning she knew the thin stretch fabric of the tight-fitting dress pants would offer little to no protection. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she placed herself as instructed and, in doing so, quickly realised, due to her short stature, the position presented her bottom perfectly for Gibbs to have full access.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she sensed, rather than saw, Gibbs move to position himself directly to her left giving him full swing of his right arm. Suddenly feeling Gibbs' left hand rest tenderly on the small of her back, Jenny accepted the comforting weight it offered, a reminder she wasn't alone. This didn't, however, alleviate the shaking in her legs.

It's only four swats, Shepard, she told herself angrily. It'll be over before you know it.

But Gibbs wasn't about to let this lesson pass quickly. He wanted each swat to count, if not physically then definitely psychologically.

Staring at the pert backside presented so perfectly, Gibbs had to remind himself to stay on task. This was a lesson in discipline. Calling to mind the vision of Jenny caught in Simons' clutches, the hunting knife pressed against her throat, Gibbs suddenly had no trouble in raising his right hand and, with full force, landed it with a deafening crack across the centre of her small bottom, covering both cheeks with the single swat.

Jenny jolted forward, the force of the smack eliciting a muffled grunt. For the briefest of seconds, she felt nothing. Then it began. A sharp stinging sensation bit acutely into her bottom before a wave of intense burning quickly spread across the centre of both cheeks.

Realising that hurt a lot more than she had expected, Jenny waited for the second swat to land. When it didn't come immediately, she was forced, instead, to focus on the stinging heat which seem to intensify with each passing second. At long last, she felt Gibbs draw back his right hand again. Closing her eyes in anticipation, she suddenly squealed in surprise as the unyielding hand landed with the force of a paddle against the centre of her right cheek. This time the sting was instant and Jenny suddenly wondered where the swarm of bees had come from. Knowing instinctively that rubbing would be out of the question, she jiggled frantically on the spot to try and relieve the almost unbearable sting.

"Stand still," ordered Gibbs sternly. "Or I'll add an extra."

Resisting the urge to bite back with a smart-ass retort, Jenny used all her self-control to stand still and focus on anything except the burning sensation in her right butt cheek.

Again, Gibbs did not immediately land the third swat, allowing the sting to override all other senses. When Jenny felt she was about to scream with frustration, she became aware of Gibbs moving to her other side. Wondering why, she was soon enlightened, when the third swat made contact with her left cheek.

"Ow! Geez Gibbs, that really hurts!" she yelled, speaking for the first time since the ordeal had begun.

"Good," replied Gibbs calmly as he returned to her left side. "I'd hate to think I wasn't doing it right."

Torn between making Gibbs a permanent soprano or using her hands to protect her smarting bottom, Jenny chose the latter. No longer caring if it was allowed or not, she stood upright as her hands flew behind her and began rubbing vigorously in an attempt to quell the hornets' nest that was once her backside.

Gibbs gently took her hands and bending her back over the table, held them to the small of her back.

"That will also earn you extra. Do not do that again!"

With both cheeks now aflame, Jenny waited for the final swat. She knew where it was going to land before Gibbs had even raised his hand. And, sure enough, a pain like a thousand needles erupted on the under-curve of her bottom, right in the center and across the very tops of her thighs. For the first time in her life she wished she were obese. Surely having a larger target area would mean Gibbs' huge hand couldn't achieve such a complete coverage.

With her hands still held firmly behind her back, Jenny remained pinned face-down on the table. With only the pain to focus on, she cursed again her choice of attire. Her tight-fitting pants seemed to hold in the heat until she felt sure her bottom was going to self-combust. Who would have thought four swats could hurt so much? Five minute ago Jenny was only concerned with the humiliation of what she was about to endure. Now she had to contend with not only the embarrassment of having being spanked, but the searing pain she never dreamed she would feel from only four smacks.

Finally, she felt the hold on her hands loosen as Gibbs released his grip and gently lifted her torso off the table. Standing in front of him like a well chastised child, Jenny averted her gaze and stared at the wall behind him.

"I didn't think that would hurt so much," she said honestly. "I'm sure a head slap would have been far easier."

Gibbs forced back a smirk.

"Well, you know where I stand on that issue. It's either this or an official report."

Jenny huffed in annoyance.

"Hardly a fair choice," she grumbled.

Gibbs only shrugged in response.

"So…where do we go from here?" asked Jenny shyly.

"Back to the squad room. You've still got your report to do," replied Gibbs.

"I don't mean literally," said Jenny unable to resist the escaping eye-roll. "I mean, what I did could have seen any one of us killed."

"Jenny," said Gibbs softly and she didn't miss the use of her first name. "What you did was incredibly dangerous and foolish but we've dealt with it. It's over. The slate has been wiped clean."

"But," began Jenny, ready to argue.

"No buts," said Gibbs, cutting her off. "Once it's dealt with, that's it."

Unable to accept the simplicity of what Gibbs was saying, Jenny struggled to let the conversation go. Sure, the spanking had hurt, but it hadn't been excruciating. It certainly hadn't brought her to tears and she would be able to sit without any real discomfort. Suddenly feeling both confused and conflicted, Jenny wondered just how those four swats could really make amends for what she had done. While she wasn't about to suggest the spanking should have been longer, she did question whether it had really achieved its goal. OK, she admitted, she would certainly think twice before disobeying a direct order again but could it really 'clear the slate' as Gibbs had put it.

As if Gibbs could read her mind, he stepped forward and gently placed a finger under her chin. Lifting her head upwards until she was looking directly at him, he chose his next words carefully.

"Jenny, what's done is done. You've faced the consequences. It's over. You now need to move on."

His words were spoken so tenderly, Jenny was horrified to feel the prickling of tears beginning to form. Knowing this was the very last thing she wanted to have happen, she gave a half-hearted nod and, for the sake of finding something to do, pushed the chair she'd used earlier, back under the table. She didn't, for one moment, want him thinking she needed a comforting, post spanking hug she'd read about so often. His words had been enough to evoke threatening tears, a hug would definitely tip her over the edge into a blubbering mess.

Noticing Gibbs had moved to the door and was now holding it open for her, Jenny understood her time in this room was over. After hooking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, she crossed her arms protectively over her heart and, with her head held high, left the room.

As Gibbs watched his newest recruit walk away from him, he allowed for himself a brief moment of self-indulgent contemplation. He knew this wasn't over for Jenny. Telling her everything was now resolved and forgotten was one thing. Having her believe it was another issue entirely. Gibbs knew exactly what Jenny was going through, having done the same himself with Franks. It was only until Jenny was willing to forgive herself, would she be free from the guilt that still consumed her. And that, concluded Gibbs sadly, was something she had to do on her own.

Or, so he thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Again, thank you for your continued support. Your reviews, Facebook messages and PMs are received with much appreciation and a little 'squee' of joy when a notification arrives in my inbox. They keep me enthused to provide the best possible story for you all.**

 **OK - so things have moved considerably quicker in this chapter than I thought they were going to. As strange as it sounds, I often just let my characters write their own stories, allowing the plot to flow naturally without too much planning or interception from my analytical mind which wants to pull back sometimes and edit too harshly. So, in writing this chapter, I soon discovered Jenny had decided her relationship with Gibbs was going to progress much faster than I had originally intended. However, as it fell into place, I realized I actually liked the direction it had taken. It now allows me greater freedom in writing both their romantic and spanking relationship.**

 **I hope you agree and enjoy this next chapter.**

 **PS - An Australian Adventure is up next. :)**

Chapter 8

Stan looked up as the elevator gave it's familiar 'ding'. Noticing only Jenny step from its confines, he followed her with his eyes until she stepped around her desk and took a seat.

"What?" she snapped, annoyed by his ogling stare.

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just making sure you're still alive. You were gone quite a while."

Ignoring the comment, Jenny opened her desk drawer and pulled out the report she had started earlier. Picking up her pen, she positioned herself ready to write but sensed Stan's eyes still boring into her from the safety of his desk. Without making eye contact, she lifted her pen from the paper and let out a loud, frustrated sigh.

"Is there a problem, Agent Burley?"

"Well, I…just wondered what you and Gibbs were discussing that took so long?" he asked curiously.

About to give him a scathing retort, Jenny was saved the bother when Gibbs alighted from the stairs and strode past Stan's desk.

"None of your business, Burley!" snapped Gibbs, highlighting is words with a cracking head slap that caused both Stan and Jenny to wince in unison. "Finished your report?"

"Ah, almost Boss," replied Stan, rubbing his head vigorously.

"Almost isn't 'done'," barked Gibbs. "Worry about that rather than things that don't concern you!"

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs repressed a smirk as the young man returned to his writing much like a recalcitrate teenager. Shifting his gaze to Jenny, he didn't miss the fact that she took great pains to not make any eye contact with him. Her focus was solely on the page in front of her. He couldn't help but worry over whether he'd made the right decision in offering her an alternate option. Maybe he should have just reported her and been done with it.

He brought to mind previous conversations they'd had, mainly in the elevator he had to admit with an inward smile. She'd given him all the signs that she was open to the idea of being spanked. The lack of outrage or disdain, the deep blushing and dropping of the head in submission, the constant cheek and back-chat; they had all been there. Even when she knew she was going to get a spanking, her main concern was whether it was comparable to what Burley received. Yes, the spanking had been impersonal, even mechanical. He'd intended it to be that way; a punitive discipline for a workplace misdemeanor, regardless of how unorthodox it was. Yet, watching Jenny now, he knew something was off and it was more than just her feeling guilty over what had happened with Simons. Maybe she was just embarrassed, he wondered. Nah, he thought, brushing that idea away. It wasn't embarrassment, Gibbs was sure of that.

Well, whatever it was, Gibbs decided he would wait it out for a while. It may well be something she had to work out on her own. If not, he would confront her about it later. Right now they had a case to tidy up and file away. With this thought in mind, Gibbs grabbed the first of many folders from his desk and set to work.

The day passed reasonably quickly. With everyone occupied and on task, Gibbs was surprised when he looked at his watch and saw it was nearly 6pm. Deciding to give his team and early mark; well, early by his standards, Gibbs looked up and shared the good news.

"Just printing out now Boss," said Burley.

Leaving his desk, he retrieved the bundle of sheets from the printer and returned. Stacking them neatly, he placed them in a manila folder and walked over to Gibbs' desk.

"Good to see a case through to the end," he said handing the folder over. Then, turning slightly to include Jenny, he added, "You're lucky Shepard. I was three cases in before I saw one solved and put to bed."

Hearing her name, Jenny looked up briefly.

"Huh?" she muttered, frowning at the intrusion.

Stan sighed,

"Nothing," he said and watched as she immediately returned to the page she was reading.

Turning back to Gibbs, Stan leaned both palms on the leader's desk.

"Is she OK?" he asked quietly, indicating Jenny with a quick nod of his head. "She's hardly said a word all day and, while I might find that refreshing, it does seem a little odd."

Without acknowledging the redhead, Gibbs opened the folder from Stan and flicked his eyes briefly over each page.

"She's fine," he replied confidently, closing the folder and placing it on top of the pile already accumulating on his desk.

"You sure boss?"

"Go home, Burley," said Gibbs in response to the younger man's concern. "It's been a long week. Take an early mark."

Stan snorted.

I don't think 6pm is really an early mark, Boss," he replied scornfully.

"It's earlier than seven which is where you're headed if you keep standing there arguing."

"Sure thing, Boss," replied Stan turning quickly and grabbing his jacket from behind his chair. "I don't need telling twice. See you Monday."

The last sentence was thrown over his shoulder as Stan quickly made for the elevator. Lifting a hand in acknowledgement, Gibbs waved his second in command out of the squad room.

Turning his attention back to Jenny, Gibbs was curious as to what she was working on. Having handed him her report a few hours ago, Gibbs had given her a couple of summary reports to complete but he knew she would have finished those by now.

"You done with those reports I gave you?" he asked, more as an excuse to gain her attention.

"Shepard!" he barked, when she didn't respond.

Looking up, Jenny made eye contact. Her initial frown at the interruption turned into a look of enquiry.

"I said, are you done with those reports I gave you?" repeated Gibbs.

"Ah, yeah," replied Jenny, giving her desk a quick once over to see where she'd placed them. Finding them under a stack of newly added papers, she fished them out.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Gibbs rose from his chair and, in an excuse to take the reports from her, made his way to Jenny's desk. Seeing the Bradley Simons case file opened and crime scene photos scattered across the workspace he frowned.

"What are you doing with those?" he asked, indicating the gruesome photos.

Jenny shrugged.

"Nothing really, just curious I guess," she replied holding out the reports for him to take. Once taken from her grasp, she busied herself gathering up the photos and autopsy reports and placed them back into the folder, closing it with a snap.

"Curious about what?" asked Gibbs. He knew he was pushing the point but seeing her pouring over the crime scene photos had him worried.

"Not important," she replied, brushing him off.

Standing, she grabbed the case file off the desk and, in an attempt to return it to the filing cabinet situated between hers' and Burley's desk, she abruptly turned to the left and pulled open the second drawer. In doing so, she didn't notice the sheet of paper that fluttered out from under the file. With eagle hawk precision Gibbs had and, without hesitation, snatched up sheet of paper.

"That's mine," called Jenny, swinging back to her desk, her hands flying out to retrieve the sheet from Gibbs.

"So I see," replied Gibbs, holding it away from her.

"And, it's personal," she added, her temper rising at his blatant disregard for her privacy.

"Hmmm," was all the reply she received.

Crossing her arms over her chest and huffing angrily, Jenny could only stand by helplessly as Gibbs perused the sheet. He only needed to read the first three lines to see what it was and it concerned him greatly.

"The case is over Jenny," he said, his voice slightly softer than usual. "Why are you making detailed notes of what injuries were inflicted on the victims."

"I…I was making notes for….research, trying to link Simons' personality to the wounds and torture he inflicted."

The response sounded plausible enough but Gibbs knew she was lying.

"Thinking of becoming a forensic psychologist?" asked Gibbs. "I thought your interest was in Crime Investigation, not Behavioral Analysis."

"I think knowing the mind of a psychopath, profiling their methods, can greatly assist crime investigation," argued Jenny.

"Agreed," said Gibbs. "But your time would be better spent analyzing an open case rather than one that's already solved."

Pursing her lips in frustration, Jenny turned back to the filing cabinet to make sure the Simons' file was put away securely, before closing the drawer.

"How about we cut the crap and you tell me what's really going on?" demanded Gibbs as Jenny faced her desk again.

"Don't you have a home to go to?" snapped Jenny.

"Sure," replied Gibbs. "Don't you?"

Rolling her eyes, Jenny took the piece of paper now held loosely by Gibbs and placed it in the top drawer of her desk. Glancing over it briefly, she felt a wave of nausea hit her as visions from the crime scene photos filled her mind.

"Have the girls' families been notified of Simons' death?" she asked, her voice wracked with emotion.

"Director Morrow was doing that today," replied Gibbs.

"Good," said Jenny softly. "Now they can have closure."

"What about you?" asked Gibbs, refocusing the subject back on her.

"Me?" She tried to sound casual but Gibbs wasn't fooled. "What do I need closure for?"

"Because you could have been one of those girls," replied Gibbs bluntly.

Jenny froze as his words hit her.

"Isn't that what all of this is about?" he asked, perching his hip on the edge of her desk. "Knowing that you could have ended up as a photo in that folder?"

"We all could have," she replied, her voice small and wracked with guilt.

Gibbs sighed.

"Jenny, you need to let this go. It won't do you any good hanging onto the 'what ifs'. If you do that with every case, you'll end up just as screwed as the psychopaths we're chasing."

"I know, but every time I close eyes I see those girls' faces. I see that girl we found at the bottom of the ridge. I hear their screams at night. I….." she trailed off, afraid the tears she'd held so tightly would be released in torrent proportions.

"When was the last time you got eight hours' sleep?" asked Gibbs.

Jenny shrugged.

"When?" pressed Gibbs.

"I don't know!" she snapped. "Probably the night before I started working in this place!"

Shaking his head slightly, Gibbs made a snap decision. "Come on," he said. "Grab your bag, we're going for a drink."

"I don't want a drink," she replied.

"Well, we need to talk and I'm sure as hell not doing that without something stronger than a coffee. So," he continued, returning to his own desk and snatching up his cell, "Get your bag and come with me."

He began walking towards the elevator.

"That's an order Agent Shepard," he called, knowing she wasn't following him. He smiled when he heard a soft sigh of resignation.

"Where are we going?" asked Jenny, as Gibbs drove away from the city and into suburbia.

"Best place I know for a quiet drink," he replied mysteriously.

When the car suddenly pulled into a driveway, Jenny turned and stared at him.

"Where are we?" she asked, although she had a sneaking suspicion she already knew.

"My place," he replied.

As Gibbs stepped out of the car, Jenny watched as he half jogged to her side and opened the door.

"I won't bite," he said, seeing her hesitation. "We need to talk and this is the best place I know where we can do that in peace and quiet."

"How do you know I won't bite," retorted Jenny, unbuckling her belt and slipping out of the passenger seat.

He let out a low chuckle and Jenny smiled at the sound. It was warm and smooth, and it suited him.

"You should do that more often," she said as they walked up the path.

She watched as Gibbs stepped up to the front door and opened it with ease.

"You don't lock your door?" she asked in surprise.

"Nope," he replied holding the door open for her.

"What if someone came in and robbed you?"

"Nothing to take," he replied simply.

She watched as he secured his gun and badge then, holding out his hand for her own, she handed it to him and waited until it too was secured. Stepping into the living room she quickly ascertained his earlier statement was spot on. There really wasn't much to take. An old, but well-loved couch was placed in front of the window. To the left of the fire place stood an old TV she was sure only played in black and white. A few books were scattered on the mantel and, to complete the look, a bicycle was propped up against the back wall. In fact, the only thing that looked of any value was the beautifully handcrafted coffee table which took pride of place in the middle of the room. Ornately carved legs supported a polished top with built in drawers.

Drawn to the table, Jenny traced her fingers over the smooth surface.

"This is beautiful," she said, admiring the care that had been taken in making the piece of furniture.

"Thanks," replied Gibbs gruffly. "Beer, Bourbon or Soda?" he called as he stepped into the kitchen.

"Beer, thanks," she replied. "So where did you purchase this from?"

"Nowhere," replied Gibbs, handing her a beer and flopping down on the couch. "I made it."

Jenny raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You made it?" she repeated. "Wow, it's beautiful. Do you do many pieces of furniture?"

"Nope." He took a swig of his beer. "I build boats."

Again, Jenny couldn't help but be surprised by his words. "Boats?"

"Yep. In the basement," he added.

"Well, that's one place for it I guess," she said.

Noticing the couch was the only place to sit, Jenny perched herself at the other end and took a sip of her beer.

Never one for small talk, Gibbs turned his body slightly towards her.

"So, why are you still holding onto this case?" he asked, looking directly at her.

She took a second sip, hoping to stall for some time. When the silence threatened to consume her, she shrugged and eventually said, "I don't know."

"Yeah you do," replied Gibbs.

Wishing she had stood her ground and refused the drink, Jenny returned her focus to the coffee table.

Gibbs sighed and took another drink.

Swallowing he said, "If you can't learn to let go, how are you going to do this job?"

"I don't normally have a problem," she replied, her voice strained due to the anger she was suppressing. "I can do this job as well as anyone, just check my training stats."

"Don't need to," replied Gibbs. "Physically you're more than capable."

"And what?" she snapped. "Emotionally, I'm not!"

"You're the one talking," he said calmly.

Wishing she could ram the beer bottle where the sun didn't shine, Jenny placed it roughly on the coffee table and stood abruptly.

"This is ridiculous," she said, standing up. "I'm calling a cab."

"Sit!" ordered Gibbs. When she didn't move, he implored her with his eyes. "Please?" he added politely.

A bundle of confusion, Jenny wanted nothing more than to run from the room and the man who seemed to challenge her at every step. Why was he so insistent she talk about this?

"Because, as I said before, if you can't learn to let go, how are you going to do this job," he replied and Jenny realized with an embarrassed shock, she'd said her last thought out loud.

Feeling suddenly tired and defeated, Jenny slumped unceremoniously onto the sofa. No longer perched delicately on the end, she allowed the soft leather to wrap around her like a comforting hug.

Seeing the change in her demeanor, Gibbs knew she was finally ready to talk.

"I messed up, Gibbs," she said softly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, you did," replied Gibbs. "And I punished you for it. It's over."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I put all our lives at risk, especially my own. You were right with what you said earlier." She met his gaze and was surprised to see only compassion and concern staring back at her. "You know, about the crime scene photos?"

Gibbs nodded hoping his nonverbal response would encourage her to continue talking.

"The thing is, I've been on my own for a while now," she continued. "I'm used to making my own decisions, looking after myself. I stepped into that hall because I thought one of you needed help. I didn't question my own safety. I didn't think about staying put. I just knew I couldn't stay in the kitchen if there was a chance one of you was in trouble."

"You've already told me this, earlier today," reminded Gibbs. "And we dealt with it, remember?"

Jenny blushed bright red. It wasn't something she was about to forget.

"So why are you still hanging onto this?" asked Gibbs.

She closed her eyes in tired frustration unable to answer the question.

"OK, well answer me this instead," said Gibbs. "Why did I spank you?"

"Because I disobeyed a direct order," replied Jenny feeling embarrassed at having to revisit this again.

"No, I mean what was the point of the spanking?"

"Gibbs!" she whined, her face blushing furiously. "Really?"

He raised his eyebrows and leveled her with a look that spoke volumes. It was that look that sent Jenny's stomach flipping excitedly. It was both a warning and a promise of things to come. Feeling the heat rising steadily through her core, Jenny tried desperately to ignore it. This was not the moment, she chided herself.

From the other side of the couch, Gibbs didn't miss Jenny's reaction. He hadn't really meant to give her such a meaningful glare, but the whine in her voice caught him off guard and he felt himself reacting automatically. And there it was. The tell-tale blush of her cheeks that he loved so much. It was in such contrast to the strong independent woman he saw in the field. This Jenny was vulnerable and oh so….spankable he thought with a smile.

Deciding enough was enough, Gibbs changed tactics and hit the topic head on.

"That blush?" he said, pointing to the flush in her cheeks. "That tells me something about you and I don't think I'm wrong in my interpretations."

He didn't think it possible but she reddened even deeper at his revelation.

"What?" she stammered.

"Over the last couple of weeks, we have danced around the topic of whether or not you deserve a spanking. And, each time, you have indicated in some way that you are not averse to the idea. So, when I suggested it today as a form of punishment, I wasn't surprised that you accepted the terms. That spanking was meant to have two purposes. One, to deter you from disobeying me again and, two, to bring you closure and an end to the whole situation. I personally think it achieved its first purpose but I'm fairly confident in saying it did not bring you any closure. Am I right?"

Jenny didn't know where to look or how to answer. Her heart was currently taking up residence in her mouth and her stomach was flipping quickly enough to win gold medals at the upcoming Olympics. With all moisture draining from her mouth, speech became a distance memory and all she could do was nod in agreement.

"So why didn't it bring you any closure?"

Oh god, she thought desperately, he wants an answer.

Swallowing what little saliva she had left in her mouth, Jenny thought about the question. She knew the answer, she knew the minute the spanking had begun it wasn't going to 'fix' how she felt. What she didn't know was how to convey that to Gibbs without sounding like a masochistic lunatic.

"Jennifer?"

His use of her full name had her head snapping up.

"I don't know how to explain it?" she eventually pleaded.

"Try," he said simply.

Sighing she consigned herself to the inevitable.

"There was no….no real… connection," she said, thinking carefully about each word before it was spoken.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Gibbs flippantly. "I thought my hand connected pretty well."

She rolled her eyes at his attempted humor but it did the trick. She relaxed considerably. When she next spoke, her words came more freely as she tried to explain what she meant.

"It was too distant and cold. It hurt enough to make me think twice about disobeying you but, a spanking is more than just the physical pain. There was no release of the guilt I was feeling. And that's still eating away at me. I know what I did was stupid. I know it could have cost all of us our lives and I can't let it go."

"OK, so what will help you let go?" asked Gibbs.

Biting down on her lip, Jenny wished the ground would suddenly swallow her up. But, if she didn't say it now, she knew the moment would pass and she may not get another chance to tell Gibbs what she needed.

"I… I needyoutospankme." The word rushed out in a complete jumble and she wasn't surprised to see the confused look that crossed Gibbs' face.

"You want to try that again. Maybe in English this time?" he quipped.

"I need you to spank me."

There, she'd said it. With her heart beating frantically she waited to hear Gibbs' reaction.

"Again?" he asked.

She nodded.

"But," she said, before he could say anything else, "Not like last time. I need to feel connected to you, to know you're there."

Gibbs nodded.

Thank God she thought, he finally gets it.

"It wasn't the spanking that was the problem," he surmised. "It was the way it was given?"

Jenny nodded, then added verbally, "Yes."

"You do understand why I did it that way though?" asked Gibbs.

Jenny shrugged. "I guess...maybe?" she replied.

Gibbs smiled at her noncommittal response.

"I needed it to be impersonal so there was no misunderstanding between us. A spanking is usually a very intimate act. The very fact that my hand is connecting with your bottom already crosses a thousand boundaries considered unsuitable for the workplace. I needed it to be seen as punishment and nothing else."

"I already knew it was punishment," replied Jenny still recovering from a new wave of blushing from his precise description. "I didn't have to lean over a table to know that."

"But I needed you to lean over the table," he replied softly.

Jenny looked up and saw, for the first time, Gibbs was the one blushing.

"Oh," she said in a whisper, suddenly understanding his meaning.

"Jenny, you are an incredibly beautiful woman and, I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was attracted to you. Having you across my knee, in a workplace situation, would have been completely inappropriate." explained Gibbs, his ears reddening with embarrassment.

"Your ears go all red when you blush," said Jenny, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Did you know that?"

Trying to quell her with a stern look, he knew he'd failed dismally when she simply giggled. But the sound was like music and Gibbs couldn't help but smile in return.

Without warning, Jenny leaned forward and gently placed her lips over his. It was such a light, feathery kiss, Gibbs wondered if it had happened at all but the smoldering look in Jenny's eyes had all doubt fleeing for the hills. Taking control, Gibbs lifted his hands and cupped her head, gently turning it up so his lips could descend on hers. There was no mistaking this kiss. It was deliberate and strong. Gently prising open her lips, he deepened the kiss and felt her reciprocate.

Without releasing their hold, Gibbs felt Jenny manoeuvre across the couch until she was straddled on his lap, her hands now having easy access to his neck and back and he felt her fingernails dig into his flesh. His own hands certainly didn't stay idle. Roaming over her back it didn't take long for him to find his favorite part of her as his fingers kneaded the firm flesh of her backside. Rising on her knees, Jenny encouraged further exploration and moaned when he began to massage the twin globes firmly. As she pushed her bottom out, his hands accidentally brushed against her sex and a second, deeper moan escaped her lips. Suddenly regaining his senses, Gibbs pulled his hands away and, using every ounce of his self-control, he retraced his path up her back and settled around her shoulders again, gently pulling away from her as they both came up for air.

"Geez Shepard, what the hell are you trying to do to me," growled Gibbs, nibbling on her ear as she nuzzled into his neck.

"Just thought I'd let you know the feeling was mutual," she replied softly, tracing a line along his jaw with her finger.

"I think you succeeded," he whispered, gently nipping at her lips.

"However," he said, managing to untangle himself from her wandering hands. "This wasn't the purpose of bringing you here tonight."

"Maybe not," she replied mischievously, "But, it's a nice distraction."

"Brat," he said, swatting her bottom playfully.

She giggled and squirmed enticingly on his lap and he thought he would take her there and then. Trying to think of anything other than her beautiful body on his, he put his hands under her arms and gently lifted her off his lap, placing her back on the couch next to him.

"Spoilsport," she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Clearing his throat, Gibbs tried desperately to remember where in the conversation they had been before Jenny had literally bounded on top of him.

"You were telling me how attracted to me you are," she said, her eyes dancing.

"I was explaining why I chose to have you lean over the table," added Gibbs, trying to steer the conversation back on course.

It did the trick. He watched as Jenny suddenly slumped back into the couch and drew her knees up to her chest, hugging herself protectively.

"It was horrible," she said suddenly.

"The spanking?" he asked, confused by the sudden change in demeanor. "It wasn't that hard, was it?"

"No, not the spanking," she said, a touch of annoyance creeping into her tone. "The feeling of being disconnected from you. You said yourself, a spanking is intimate. Well, it is for me too. If I'm going to put myself in a position where I'm going to trust you to inflict pain, then I need to feel you close to me. After this morning, I was left feeling empty and…used…."

Her voice was so quiet Gibbs had to strain to hear what she'd said.

"Used?" he questioned. "In what way."

"It was like you had got from the situation what you needed but I was left... wanting. A bit like sex really," she added, a trace of spark returning.

Ignoring her jibe, Gibbs continued, "And you didn't get the release of guilt you needed?"

Jenny shook her head.

"Do you still need that release?"

Having just moved their relationship well and truly beyond work colleagues, Gibbs seriously questioned whether the need was still there.

"Kind of need a different type of release now," she muttered under her breath.

"Jennifer!" he growled, trying to keep her on track.

"Leroy Jethro," she immediately retorted, mimicking his tone. "God, that's a mouthful. I think I'll stick with Jethro. It has a nicer ring to it."

Rolling his eyes at her antics, Gibbs struggled to keep a straight face.

"I need you to focus, Jenny," said Gibbs seriously. "I'm asking you an honest question. When you go home tonight, will you still feel guilt over what happened.

Sobering immediately, Jenny shrugged.

"I guess," she eventually admitted.

"Well, in that case, we need to do something about it, don't we?" His voice was back to stern as he leveled her with 'the look'.

"I'm scared, Jethro."

The words surprised him and again, he was left wondering if he'd heard correctly.

"Jenny, there's no way I'm going to spank you if you're scared of me."

"It's not you I'm scared of," she said, surprised he would even think that after the last five minutes. "It's not even the spanking," she added before he jumped to that conclusion. "It's letting go. I'm scared that once I start I won't stop."

"You mean crying?" clarified Gibbs.

Jenny nodded. "I hate crying, especially ugly crying."

"Nothing you do could be ugly," he said with a smile.

"Yeah, well, you may change your mind when I'm wiping snot all over your shirt," she said, hugging her knees tightly.

She laughed at his horrified look.

"I'm kidding, Gibbs," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"There's nothing wrong with crying, Jen," said Gibbs gently, shortening her name and liking the way it sounded.

"It shows weakness," replied Jenny stubbornly.

"That's ridiculous," snapped Gibbs. "If crying is going to help you release stress and anxiety then there's nothing weak about it."

She rested her chin on her knees and refused to comment.

Gibbs threw his hands in the air.

"It's your choice, Jenny," he said, frustrated by her lack of communication. "You're the one in control here. If you don't want me to spank you, I won't. But, if you feel it will help you release the pent-up guilt and stress you've been holding on to, then just say the word."

"How will you do it?" she asked. Despite her embarrassment at having to ask, she needed to know.

"I'm going to sit on that coffee table you like so much and put you over my knee," he replied without a moment's hesitation.

A sudden tingle shot through her body and rested intimately at her core. As a new and more pressing problem suddenly arose, Jenny felt the tell-tale blush betray her once again. Despite her embarrassment, she had to say something.

"My…um…pants stay up," she blurted quickly.

Gibbs smiled.

"This time, yes," he agreed. "However, I have a feeling it won't be long before we will be getting to know each other on a far more intimate level, if earlier tonight is anything to go by. Once that happens, all future spankings will be on your bare bottom, make no mistake about that."

His words sent her mind into a spin and a sudden wetness pooled as her arousal went into overdrive. Wondering whether she could just forget the spanking and jump straight to sex, she was brought back to earth with a jolt when he stood, turned around and re-seated himself on the coffee table.

Reaching out his hand, he took her gently and guided her off the couch and around to his right side.

"You ready?" he asked.

At the first sign of a brief nod, Gibbs pulled on her arm until she fell forward, face down over his lap. Suddenly staring at the carpet, Jenny wondered what on earth she'd been thinking when she asked for this.

Too late now, she reminded herself as she felt Gibbs' hand gently caress her bottom. Waves of delicious warmth spread through her body and it took all her self-control not to rub herself against his unyielding knee. She was similarly pleased when she felt his own hardening arousal beneath her torso. At least she wasn't the only one turned on by this.

"All right," began Gibbs gently. "I'm going to start with reasonably firm swats but, as the spanking progresses, so will the force of the swats. I'm going to ask you some questions during the spanking and I expect you to answer them. Failure to do so, will see the swats get even harder. The idea of this spanking Jenny, is to help you let go. Don't fight it. It will only make it worse. Do you understand?"

When she didn't answer immediately, she felt a sudden sting explode across the seat of her pants.

"I asked you a question, Jennifer," he said sternly. "I expect an immediate answer."

"Yes," she moaned, her own voice sounding hoarse and throaty. "I understand."

"Good girl," he praised, his hand returning to the gentle caresses she had been enjoying so much.

Without further delay, he removed his hand from her bottom and, at the same time, she felt his left arm tightened around her waist.

The brief moment of abandonment was quickly shattered when his right hand landed sharply on her right bottom cheek. Jumping more from the surprise than any particular pain, she'd barely had chance to register the swat when another landed, just as sharply, on her left bottom cheek. As Gibbs methodically alternated between cheeks, Jenny began to feel the familiar burning sensation she'd experience earlier that day. However, instead of waiting between each swat, Gibbs kept up a steady rhythm until the slow burn quickly heated into to a toasty blaze.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the pain, Jenny shifted slightly to try and avoid the relentless hand from descending on her upended bottom. A particularly hard swat landed sharply and Jenny squealed out.

"Keep still," growled Gibbs.

"But it's hurting," she whined, lifting her leg to deflect the next blow.

If she'd thought the pain in her bottom was bad, it was nothing compared to the smack that landed on the back of her thigh before Gibbs pushed her leg down.

"Those legs stay down, young lady," he chastised sternly.

Not wanting a repeat of the swat that stung her upper thigh, she made every effort to obey.

Through the haze of heightened sensations, Jenny became aware of Gibbs' voice.

"Is it ever OK for you to put your life at risk unnecessarily?" he asked, maintaining a rapid-fire rhythm of swats.

Forgetting to answer, Jenny squealed, again, when his hand crashed down on the under-curve of her bottom, right where it met her thigh.

"Answer me, young lady!"

"No," she gasped, the swat having taken her breath away.

"Is it ever OK for you to unnecessarily put the lives of the team at risk?"

"No!" she cried out, ready this time with an answer.

"So why was it OK for you to do it last night?"

Unable to think of an answer, Jenny felt the intensity of the swats increase as his hand fell mercilessly across the burning blaze that, only minutes ago, had been her backside. Panic began to build as she felt she had nowhere to go and no answer to give.

"I don't know!" she wailed loudly. "Please, stop!"

"It wasn't OK, was it?" growled Gibbs, his hand still falling without hesitation.

"No!" yelled Jenny, trying desperately to push herself off Gibbs' lap. But his left hand was firm around her waist while his right landed six sharp swats to the backs of her sensitive thighs.

Just when she thought she was going to start hyperventilating, Gibbs' hand suddenly stopped. Relief washed over her as her lungs kicked into action and she panted furiously. The hand that, only seconds ago had been crashing down on her bruised flesh, now caressed with an intimate tenderness.

"It is NEVER OK for you to risk your life unnecessarily!"

Jenny gasped as, on the word 'never', Gibbs applied a hard smack to her throbbing bottom before continuing the gentle caressing.

"It is NEVER OK for you to unnecessarily risk the lives of your team!"

Again, his hand descended on the emphasized word and Jenny jumped involuntarily. Her bottom ached with fresh new stings but the hands quickly switched to tenderly soothing the throbbing burn. The contrast between the spanks and the caresses was sending her mind into a spin. Not sure which to expect, she felt like her nerves had been stripped bare while her body both tensed and relaxed.

"If I give you an order, I EXPECT it to be OBEYED!"

Two swats, with equal force landed on each of her sit spots. A burst of pain, quelled instantly when his hands gently rubbed the spot he'd just spanked. Struggling to cope with this new pattern of pain verses pleasure, Jenny felt the tell-tale sign of her body beginning to surrender. Her throat tightened and tears began to well in the corners of her eyes.

Sensing the shift in Jenny's energy, Gibbs upped the ante, knowing she was almost there.

"Your JOB is to DO what I TELL YOU to DO. Is that clear?"

He saw her head bobbing in response and knew it was almost over.

With a particularly heavy smack to the center of her lower bottom, Gibbs growled, "Answer me!"

And then, suddenly, the flood gates opened. With a strangled cry of "Yes!" Jenny Shepard collapsed limply over Gibbs lap, her shoulders now shaking with heavy, wracking sobs.

Laying his hand gently over her bottom, he could feel the heat radiating though the thin stretch material of her pants. Tenderly he slowly massaged the swollen globes, while his other hand stroked along her back and shoulders.

"Good girl," he crooned softly. "You did really well. Just let it all go."

He had no idea if his words were understood or even heard but he knew it didn't matter. His soft murmurings and gentle hands simply offered comfort and stability, letting her know he was right there with her for as long as she needed him.

Continuing the gentle ministrations, he waited as the sobs eventually began to diminish in their intensity. He knew she would give him a signal soon and, when it came, he reached down and gently guided her up. As they both rose to a standing position, Gibbs wasted no time in lifting her effortlessly into his arms, cradling her like a baby as he sank back onto the sofa, a weeping Jenny now nestled in his lap.

The wracking sobs may have subsided but the tears still fell freely as Jenny grieved for the feelings she had released. All the pent-up fear and anger gently dispersed as they were freed from her soul. Snuggled against his chest, Gibbs re-positioned her slightly, ensuring her bottom wasn't pressed against his thighs. She used the cue to curl up her knees, freeing her bottom even further. Gibbs reached up and brushed his fingers through the strands of hair that had fallen across her face. Without thinking, his other hand, which had been tucked around her waist, rested automatically on her outer thigh and gently stroked along her hip. He pulled away as Jenny wriggled slightly, wondering if she was too sore for him to touch but, as her body snuggled closer against him, she pushed her bottom out and into his hand, silently encouraging him to continue the rubbing. Not needing to be told twice, Gibbs used a feather light touch as he stroked the backs of his fingers along her bottom and thighs, soothing the burning ache.

The sat together for a long time. The steady breathing of a weeping Jenny, the only sound that pervaded the silence.

"I…I thought…I was….going to…die," she eventually stammered, her breath hitching between words.

The statement, in its gut-wrenching honesty, elicited a new wave of sobs from Jenny and Gibbs tightened his hold, pulling her, if possible, even closer to his body.

"You're safe, Love," he murmured gently in her ear. "You're safe."

"I….was so…scared."

The attempt to talk was too much and Jenny began coughing as the sobs caught in her throat. Rubbing her back firmly, Gibbs tried to offer comfort and support as they both waited for the coughing to subside.

When it did, Gibbs asked, "Do you want a drink of water?"

She nodded against him and Gibbs shifted slightly in order to get up from the couch. Her hands tightened around him.

"Don't leave me," she pleaded, her voice so small, his heart nearly broke from its vulnerability.

"I won't," he reassured her. "I'm just getting you a glass of water. I'll be right back."

She shifted her easily to the other side of the couch and stood. The creak in his knees as he righted them made him wince slightly but he ignored the pain and walked to the kitchen. Returning seconds later, he handed her the glass and waited while she drank deeply, soothing her throat that had become dry and irritated from the constant crying. Pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket, he exchanged it for the empty glass saying, "That's to save my shirt from your snot."

She gave a watery laugh and, before blowing her nose, replied, "I think it's too late."

Gibbs eyed his tear soaked shirt and shrugged. He knew how much it had taken for those tears to fall and he was honored she had felt safe enough to release them in his presence.

Placing the glass on the coffee table, Gibbs sat back on the couch. He waited while she blew her nose and watched as she scrunched the handkerchief. When she looked around for somewhere to put it, he held out his hand.

"Here," he said softly.

Taking it from her, he stuffed it into his pocket and turned to face her.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly.

"For taking the handkerchief or the spanking," he asked.

She laughed. "Both, I guess," she finally replied.

"The question is, do you feel better?"

Jenny nodded.

"I'm still feeling pretty fragile at the moment though," she said softly. Then, laughing awkwardly she added, "Wouldn't take much to have me blubbering again."

"Nothing wrong with that, Jen," he reassured her. "You let go of a lot of crap tonight."

She nodded again, agreeing with his statement. Still wanting to feel him close, Jenny lay down on the couch and placed her head in Gibbs' lap. He immediately reached for her pony tail and released it from its banded confines. As her hair cascaded around her face and shoulders, he began carding gently through the softness, drawing it away from her face.

"You have such beautiful hair," he said softly. "Don't ever cut it!"

"Really?" she teased, her old spark returning. "I was thinking of getting a short pixie cut on the weekend. Keep it cool, ready for the summer."

He playfully swatted her bottom and chuckled at her cry of pain. The area was obviously still very sensitive.

"You ever do that, young lady," he growled in her ear. "And I promise you a spanking you won't easily forget!"

She smiled at his words and wiggled her bottom playfully. Her hair was of the few things she like about herself. She had no intention of cutting it.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Gibbs continued playing through her hair. When he felt himself almost nodding off, he realized it wouldn't be long before they both fell asleep.

"You feel like dinner?" he asked, bending forward to see if she was awake.

Her eyes opened at the sound of his voice.

"Hmmm?" she murmured, completely relaxed in his presence.

"Dinner?" he repeated, rubbing her shoulder with a little more exuberance.

Her eyes opened fully and she sighed. Rolling onto her back, she raised her arms over her head and stretched languidly like a cat in a sunlit window, raising her pelvis to stretch out her back. Lowering her hips out of the stretch, Gibbs didn't miss the carefulness with which she returned her bottom to the couch. He smiled down at her.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"Nothing," he replied innocently.

She reached up and punched him in the shoulder, pleased when a soft grunt escaped his lips.

"Dinner sounds good," she said, rising from the couch. Lacing her fingers though her hair, she made some attempt to tame the wild strands. "Can you drop me off at NCIS so I can grab my car, go home and get changed?"

"How about I just take you home so you can change and then we can go onto dinner. I have a feeling you won't be needing your car tonight."

When she furrowed her brows and gave him a scrutinizing look, his blue eyes danced with mischief.

"Oh and…er…. while your home, maybe grab a change of clothes to wear tomorrow?" he added suggestively.

"Agent Gibbs!" she said in a tone of mocked outrage. "Are you seducing me?"

He raised an eyebrow in hopeful promise

Reaching up on her tip toes, Jenny pecked him on the lips.

"Certainly hope so," she quipped.

Turning abruptly, Jenny headed for the front door, picking up her bag on the way.

"Come on," she growled impatiently. "I'm starving!"

Shaking his head and wondering how they'd ended up at this point tonight, Gibbs decided it wasn't worth thinking about. Grabbing his keys from the hall table, he followed Jenny out the door.

He would simply take each moment as it came.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN - Apologies for the delay to any updates. I have recently had major surgery (which became much larger than first thought due to complications). Good news is, I'm on the recovery side of things and, with forced rest a part of my daily regime, I'm hoping to get some writing done.**

 **This chapter explores a little of 'my Gibbs' background and hopefully sets up their relationship even further. I also have no real clue as to when Gibbs' marriage to Rebecca occurred but I'm thinking Stephanie was after Europe so I'm going to go with him being married three times before he meets Jenny - ie Shannon, Diane and Rebecca. It doesn't really matter regardless.**

 **Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and particularly the reminders to update. I so wanted to get this posted before I had surgery as I had nearly most of it written but it wasn't to be. Better late than never I guess. I hope you all enjoy xx**

Chapter 9

Pulling up against the curb, Gibbs peered up through the window to the row of blue-stone townhouses. It somehow hadn't surprised him she lived in Georgetown. Jenny Shepard was nothing if not classy.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," she said softy, unbuckling her seat belt.

"Jealous boyfriend?" he quipped although a part of him held his breath as he waited for her answer. He had presumed her single but, truth be told, he knew very little about her personal life.

"Nosy housemaid," she replied ginning at him.

He watched as she half jogged across the road and entered the house through a large ornate wooden front door. As she disappeared from view, Gibbs leaned back in his seat and let out a long drawn out sigh.

When he'd left the house this morning, his plans for the evening had included a steak cooked in the fireplace, some ironing and then his favorite three 'b's – basement, boat and bourbon. Not for one minute had he pictured himself sitting in his car in one of Georgetown's most prestigious streets having just spent the last hour spanking and comforting his newest team recruit with the promise of further intimate relations still to come.

He raked his hands over his face before opening the driver's window to let in some, much needed, fresh air. Staring at the lifeless dashboard, he wondered, not for the first time since meeting Jenny Shepard, what the hell he was hoping to achieve. Or, for that matter, what _she_ was trying to achieve. His thoughts suddenly drifted back to the way she had sat on his lap, her knees straddling his thighs, her pert bottom filling his hands. And that kiss. Tentative at first, almost chaste. But then came the passion, the hungry desire. Gibbs shook his head quickly to chase the memory away. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight again and, with no promise of relief, he wasn't willing to invite more torture.

He focused instead on what had brought them to his house in the first place. Her guilt over the case and her inability to let it go had worried Gibbs. She had the potential to be an excellent agent but if she couldn't move on from the cases they would encounter, he knew there was no point in trying to train her. His decision in taking her to his place to talk had been genuine in its intent. He needed to know what was eating away at her and he desperately wanted it fixed. The thought of giving up on her was not something he was prepared to do just yet and he was willing to try all avenues to help her get passed this.

That morning, as he'd waited for her to arrive at work, he couldn't lie, he'd been more than just a little nervous. He didn't fear official retribution, he knew she wasn't the type to do that. But, for the first time in many years, he'd begun to question his usually very reliable gut. While she'd given him every indication that a spanking was what she needed and desired to move on from the guilt, her lack of release following the spanking had concerned him. He'd never considered for one minute it was his methodology that had been off course. When it came to spanking adults, his experience was very limited.

He smiled to himself knowing most people would be shocked to know he'd had any experience at all. Yet, he had and she was all he had to rely on. But, in his own arrogance, he'd forgotten everything she'd taught him and that, right there, was his biggest mistake.

The metallic clink of a gate closing, startled Gibbs from his musings. Looking out the window, he watched as Jenny, now carrying a small overnight bag, made her way round to the passenger side door. She had changed into a pair of tight fitting jeans which, as she passed by the front headlights, accentuated the curves of her hips and thighs. Drawing his gaze upwards, he noticed the figure hugging green sweater also left little to the imagination. Her full breasts bounced slightly as she walked and he wondered if she had bothered with a bra for the evening. Hoping he may still find out, he watched as she opened the passenger door and casually threw the overnight bag onto the back seat before climbing in and closing the door. It was only as she buckled the seat belt did she finally look up at him.

"What?" she asked curiously, noticing for the first time that he was watching her with interest.

"That was quick," he said with surprise. "Sure you got everything?"

Raising one eyebrow, she reached out with her left hand and rested it on his chest. Gibbs watched as a mischievous glint settled in her eyes and her hand began to stray southward.

Eyeing him seductively she murmured softly, "I had the impression clothes weren't exactly big on your list of priorities for the next twenty four hours."

She grinned knowingly as her hand settled on the bulge in his groin.

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak but found only a muffled squeak emerged. Clearing his throat, he reached down and removed her hand.

"I thought you were starving?" he muttered thickly, his voice betraying his desire.

"I am," she replied, eyeing him provocatively.

"For food!" he clarified, gruffly.

"Oh, that too."

Despite trying to maintain a level of composure, Gibbs found himself completely captivated in her spell. Her green eyes danced alluringly while the soft, full lips begged to be kissed. Leaning forward, he gently lifted her chin and captured her lips in his. He felt her respond quickly to his kiss, pulling herself forward and clasping her hands around his head and neck. As the kiss deepened, Gibbs found himself cursing the automatic transmission between them and thought longingly of the front bench seat his previous car had sported. Three on the tree and no bucket seats.

Even with Jenny's petite stature, passions were soon halted when, as she tried to climb over the console, she inadvertently knocked the hand break off. Feeling the car start to roll backwards, Gibbs pulled away quickly.

"Damn," he cursed.

Making a grab for the hand break, he reached through Jenny's thighs which were now straddled across two seats and, as he pulled up the hand break, his hand pushed into Jenny's crotch eliciting a sensual groan from her parted lips.

"God, do that again," she murmured enticingly, pushing herself down onto Gibbs' hand.

Gibbs found himself suddenly grinning at her boldness. Pulling his hand away from temptation, he settled back in his seat and indicated she should do the same.

"Spoil sport," she muttered sulkily but did as he'd asked.

Watching as she settled back into the seat and pushed soft strands of hair away from her face, Gibbs grinned to himself. Her beauty was distracting but oh, what a wonderful distraction, he thought.

"Where do you want to eat?" he asked as he started the engine.

"Anywhere that has take-out," she replied immediately.

"Fair enough," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Chinese OK?"

"Anything!" she repeated.

Putting the car into drive, Gibbs pulled away from the curb and immediately executed a sharp U-turn. Heading back towards home territory, he barely had to think as he drove. The car knew its way to all the take-out places in the area and Chinese was a particular favorite.

It therefore wasn't long before he was pulling into his own drive and cutting the engine. Heading around to Jenny's side of the car, he opened the door and took the box of food from her lap.

"You right to get your bag from the back?" he asked, mumbling slightly around the keys that were dangling from his mouth.

"Gee, I don't know, Jethro," replied Jenny sarcastically. "I am only a mere female after all."

He rolled his eyes in exasperation but otherwise ignored her taunt. Struck by the fact she had called him Jethro, he felt a warm wave of pleasure wash over him. It was the first time she'd called him anything other than Gibbs and he liked the sound of his name on her lips.

Once inside, he placed the box of food on the coffee table and make a bee line for the fridge.

"Beer or soda?" he called loudly, having opened the door and stuck his head inside the chilled environment.

"What, no Bourbon this time?"

Jenny's voice, only inches from his ear, made him jump unexpectedly, crashing his head on the top shelf.

"Shit!" he cursed, rubbing vigorously to quell the sting. "Didn't realise you were that close."

"I could get closer," she purred seductively, pressing her body against his back.

"Are you always this forward?" Gibbs enquired, raising one eyebrow in her direction.

"I know what I want, Jethro. And, yes, especially after a spanking," she quipped. "It always puts me in the mood."

"Thanks for the warning," he added before holding up the contents of his hands. "Beer or soda?"

When she took the beer, Gibbs returned the soda to the fridge and grabbed a second beer for himself.

With companionable bustle, they rummaged through the bags of food sitting in the box.

"You sure you can eat all this?" asked Gibbs, eyeing the mountain of food set out before them.

"Well, I'm assuming you're going to help me?" she retorted.

He watched as she suddenly leaped from the couch and bounced towards the kitchen.

"Where ya going?" he called, bemused by her sudden jolt of activity.

"Plates," she called. "I want to mix the food and the cartons are too small. Besides, I need some real silverware. Those plastic things are useless."

"Cupboard to the left of the sink and top draw. Grab me some too," ordered Gibbs, agreeing with her accurate assessment of the provided plastic forks.

Returning with the necessary items and giving one half of her bounty to Gibbs, Jenny began foraging through the containers, piling her plate with a large serving from each box. When she finally settled back to eat, Gibbs found himself smiling as he dished up his own dinner.

"What are you smiling at?" demanded Jenny, her voice muffled with food but no less indignant.

"You," replied Gibbs. "Never seen anyone so small, eat so much."

"I'm hungry," she replied defensively. "Besides, I'm sure I'll burn it off tonight."

Gibbs didn't miss the suggestive hint but chose to ignore it, merely shaking his head without comment.

As Gibbs flicked on the TV via an ancient remote control, they soon slipped into a comfortable silence, each engrossed in the task of eating and occasionally looking up to watch the current affair program flickering on the screen. Before long, Gibbs' thoughts meandered back to his earlier musing as he'd waited outside Jenny's townhouse.

Rachel. Rachel Morrison. She had been his only spanking experience up until recent events with Ms Shepard and, if truth be told, he hadn't thought of her in quite some time. But, with Jenny's words from tonight playing continually through his head, he found himself remembering with great detail how things had been with Rachel and how she and Jenny were complete polar opposites.

It had been way back when he'd enlisted in the Marine Corps. She'd started out with him at Boot Camp and followed him through all the different stages of training. A wild child he'd heard her referred to, that being one of the nicer terms. Pushing every boundary she could, she disrespected any rule put in place. He'd watched from a distance, thanking whatever powers that be, she hadn't been placed in his team. But, of course, his luck had to run out at some stage. So, when she'd been assigned to his team during a training exercise, he'd decided he'd had enough. Pulling her aside, he asked her point blank what the hell she thought she was doing. Why was she here? What did she hope to achieve? Her response had shocked him. As her resolve waned and the tears began, he'd initially thought she was playing him for sympathy. But it soon became apparent her reaction was genuine. As she poured out her heart to him, he had found himself spellbound by her words. Even now, years later, Gibbs felt himself blushing at the memory. Having been born and raised in the conservative town of Stillwater, he'd barely even spoken with a girl let alone had one share with him her deepest wants and desires. When she'd finally told him that she needed to be spanked, Gibbs had thought he was going straight to hell just for listening to her.

While he was no stranger to corporal punishment, having been on the receiving end of his father's belt more times than he cared to count, he was also very aware that spanking between consenting adults was generally not of the punishing kind. It had taken some convincing before he finally realised Rachel was not asking for anything sexual. Rather, she genuinely needed to experience physical punishment as a consequence for her actions and, what's more, she wanted Gibbs to be the one to administer it.

"You remind me of my father," she had said and, Gibbs, two years younger than her own twenty years, hadn't known whether to be flattered or insulted.

As it turned out, his own feelings had been irrelevant. It had been purely about what she needed. She'd called him her 'disciplinarian'. He was nothing more and nothing less.

"I don't want anything sexual," Rachel had stated bluntly, when, after much deliberation, Gibbs had finally relented and asked her exactly what she wanted from him. "I have a boyfriend. I want someone who will hold me accountable and punish me when I fall short."

She had then explained in explicit detail how punishment was to take place, dissecting each move as if she were reading from a rule book. They would make use of an empty office. Once inside, she was to tell Gibbs exactly why she was about to be spanked. Then, handing him the belt she would bring for such occasions, she would bend over the desk, lowering her own pants and panties. Once positioned, Gibbs was to step forward and spank her, with the belt, as many times as he felt she needed to ensure full contrition. Once the spanking was complete, she would right her own clothing, permitting Gibbs to offer her comfort should the need arise.

Gibbs remembered clearly how he had stared open-mouthed at her. Red flags had flown rapidly all around him. No pants or panties? A belt? Was she serious? But, when she'd suddenly produced a piece of paper with all the 'rules' neatly written out and space at the bottom for both their signatures, Gibbs knew she was deadly serious and, more to the point, she'd done this before.

Warning signs flashed like neon lights before Gibbs' eyes. He'd been taught to never raise his hand against a woman, it was ingrained in his psyche. Yet, here was a woman asking, no demanding, he take a belt to her bare backside.

"It's not abuse," she'd told him when he'd expressed such reservations. "I want this. I'm giving you my consent."

Grabbing a pen, she'd scribbled her name at the bottom of the form.

"For God's sakes, I've even signed a consent form."

But Gibbs knew the consent form only protected him from a law suit, it didn't protect him from his own doubts and concerns.

"I need this Gibbs," she had said, her eyes imploring him to understand. "I need you to do this."

He had taken the consent form and promised her he would think about it, trying not to see the deep look of disappointment in her eyes. As he'd turned and walked away, he knew she'd been hurt by his indecisiveness. But he'd needed time to think over her words. The whole concept was completely foreign to him.

The week following her revelations had been surreal. His mind was consumed with what she had told him. He was distracted, missing instructions, training below par and generally incurring the wrath of both his supervisor and fellow team mates.

However, his behavior was nothing in comparison to Rachel's. If he'd thought her disrespectful and belligerent before, she was now beyond anything he'd ever experienced. And, suddenly, there grew in Gibbs an increasingly strong desire to haul her over his knee and treat her exactly like the recalcitrant child she was so perfectly portraying.

He'd expressed as much one day after training, pulling her aside when they'd finally been dismissed.

"No," she'd said and the vehemence in her tone had shocked him.

"So, you don't want me to spank you?" he'd asked, completely flummoxed by her words.

"Not that way," she'd replied. "I need you to be my disciplinarian, not my lover."

He'd known the look of confusion on his face was obvious, but he hadn't cared. He was confused. Absolutely!

"Going over your knee is personal," she'd explained. "It's intimate and it's not what I want from this relationship. I chose you to be my disciplinarian because of your natural ability to lead, your desire to be in control and your strong sense of what is right and wrong. You are an alpha male. In my world, I would call you a 'top'. One who commands respect and obedience without having to demand it."

Gibbs had listened without argument. It was exactly who he was.

"I don't feel anything for you except respect," she'd continued. "When we meet for punishment, it must be distant, almost businesslike. You are there to discipline me and nothing else. When you take an adult over your knee there is an implied connection. Just the positioning itself is intimate and, for me, it is something I would expect from a lover. That is why I have my rules. Over a desk, not over your knee," she'd concluded.

"And the belt?" Gibbs had asked. "Why not just my hand. I'm sure I can make enough of an impression without using a belt."

"It's the same thing," she had explained. "A hand on a bare backside is personal. It has nothing to do with intensity or harshness. I know a hand can hurt, I've been on the receiving end of many. My reason for the belt is, again, about distance."

It was at that point it had all clicked into place. What she was asking from him and why she demanded it to be a certain way. And, for the first time since she asked him to spank her, Gibbs finally felt he could. There was nothing intimate about this act. It was pure and simple discipline.

And, thus, began a new chapter for Gibbs; the role of Rachel's Disciplinarian. Initially, while he was still getting used to the position, she'd had to seek him out when she needed to be spanked and, more often than not, it was when her behavior had grown completely out of control. But, as the days and weeks progressed, Gibbs learned to recognize the signs; the sudden change of mood, the slight shift in her demeanor or a disrespectful retort. And, by using those as his guide, he could address the problem before things spiraled out of control. She too, he'd noted, had begun to respond to his own little nuances. A warning look in her direction often resulted in a spreading blush, a bite of the lip and even the occasional submissive dip of the head. Actions he'd come to recognize as signs of her desire and need.

It was these same responses he'd started to see in Jenny. Oh, he'd seen them in other women as well, of course he had. He'd been married three times and certainly hadn't lived like monk before or after his marriages. But, with Jenny, as with Rachel, there was a difference. For them, it was an innate response, there was nothing forced or practiced and it was consistent every time. It was why, when he'd seen that look in Jenny's eyes, he'd chosen to go down that path in the first place.

But, what he hadn't counted on, what he hadn't bargained for, was the way he would feel about Jenny. Spanking Rachel had merely been a task agreed upon by two consenting adults. As Rachel has so bluntly said, he was her disciplinarian and nothing else. And that had suited him. He'd never felt anything special with Rachel and there'd been no sexual desire between them.

But Jenny? Well, there was a completely different kettle of fish. He definitely felt something special for the feisty red head that argued with him at every turn. She challenged him and he loved it. He desired her, wanted her. There was just no comparison. And so, despite everything Rachel had taught him about keeping an emotional distance, here he was less than twenty-four hours after spanking Jenny at the office, having broken every rule in Rachel's book. He had moved from methodical and remote to intimate and familiar. And not only with regards to spanking, he thought, blushing furiously as he remembered the kisses they had shared.

Suddenly aware he was being stared at, Gibbs shifted uncomfortably on the couch, the fork of uneaten food hovering in his hand. Turning, he faced a grinning Jenny, mischief once again dancing in her green eyes.

"Wow!" she said, exhaling slowly. "Where did you go? And, judging by the way you're currently blushing, why didn't you take me?"

Clearing his throat in an attempt to stall an answer, he lowered his fork, tipping the food back on the plate before slowly beginning to refill it.

"Ahem," he cleared again. "I was just thinking." Taking a mouthful of food, he chewed slowly before asking, "Why? Did you say something?"

"Yeah, I asked you why you were suddenly blushing?"

"No, you didn't," he replied quickly, avoiding the question. "So, come on, what did you ask me?"

Realizing he wasn't going to elaborate, Jenny sobered quickly and thought about her question. For a split second she contemplated making something up but, recognizing her own need to know, she took a fortifying sip of beer and asked, "How did you know what I needed?"

Swallowing his mouthful, Gibbs frowned in confusion.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Earlier tonight," clarified Jenny. "when you asked me back here, how did you know what I needed."

"I didn't," replied Gibbs simply. "Not at first. I brought you back here because we needed to talk. I was concerned you couldn't move on from the case. It was you who told me you needed to be spanked again."

He watched as spots of red appeared on her cheeks and inwardly smiled. He would never tire of that look.

"But, you knew the kind of spanking I needed. You knew I needed to let go but, more than that, you knew how to do it. You've done this before?"

Despite the lift to her voice, Gibbs knew she wasn't asking a question but rather stating a fact. Jenny wasn't stupid. And he wasn't about to insult her intelligence by protecting her from the truth.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"When?"

"When I was eighteen."

Her eyebrow rose in surprise.

"Eighteen!" she exclaimed. "Seriously?" When he responded with a nod, she asked, "Who was she? A girlfriend?"

Putting down his plate, Gibbs sighed.

"No, not a girlfriend," he said. "I met her when I joined the corps. She was in my unit."

He watched as Jenny placed her own plate next to his on the coffee table. Twisting in her seat until she faced him, Gibbs recognized the look of one who was keen to hear the whole story. Her eyes encouraged him to continue and so, taking a deep breath, Gibbs did just that, beginning with how Rachel had first approached him with her need to be punished.

When he eventually sat back, having related his experience with Rachel, he watched as Jenny digested what she'd just heard.

Finally, she spoke.

"Well, I guess that explains the whole bending over the table thing," she quipped waspishly. "I probably should be grateful you allowed me to stay clothed."

Leveling her with a stern glare, Gibbs said, "I explained why I needed you over the table and that should also make it clear to you why there was no way I was going to have you remove your pants. However, if you want to keep up with that attitude I might just be tempted to change my mind."

He watched as her cheeks reddened furiously at his words and he silently congratulated himself on getting to her once again. Making Jenny Shepard blush with desire was quickly becoming his most favorite pastime.

"So how long were you Rachel's Disciplinarian?" asked Jenny, shifting the focus away from her own misgivings.

"Nearly a year," replied Gibbs. "We were assigned to the same PDS for a while before she was sent overseas."

"Do you ever hear from her?"

"Nope. We went our separate ways."

Grinning, Gibbs added tauntingly. "I hadn't thought about her in years until you started pushing boundaries."

"Hey!" replied Jenny indignantly. "Don't blame me for your lapses in memory. Not my fault if the women in your past weren't memorable."

Laughing at her response, Gibbs picked up his beer and drank deeply. Placing it back on the table, he nodded towards her dinner plate.

"You done with that?"

"Yeah," she replied.

Rising from the couch, Gibbs gathered both plates and took them through to the kitchen. As he scraped the leftovers into the bin, he saw Jenny approach from the lounge room. With her beer in one hand, she pulled out a chair with the other and sat at the dining table. When the plates were stacked in the sink, Gibbs took a seat next to her. His blue eyes sought out her green and saw a hint of apprehension.

"OK, spill," he said softly, leaning towards her comfortingly.

In the ensuing silence, Gibbs watched as Jenny wrestled with her own thoughts. Giving her the time she needed, he sat back and waited.

"What you've just told me," she began tentatively, "about Rachel, I mean, it's … well, it's not what I want."

"I know that," replied Gibbs gently.

Gazing up, she gave him a slight smile. "Yeah, I guess you do."

"You and Rachel are worlds apart," continued Gibbs. "I just told you her story because you asked me how I knew what you needed."

"Have you spanked anyone since?"

Giving his head a slight shake, Gibbs said, "No, not in the same way. Other partners haven't desired it, well, certainly not in a discipline sense. Apart from a playful swat here and there, you and Rachel have been the only two."

"That's a long time between drinks," remarked Jenny.

Gibbs gave a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so," he added. "It's a bit like riding a bike though. Not something you easily forget."

"Did you miss it?"

Gibbs thought for a moment. It was a good question and one that didn't have an easy answer.

"In some respects, I would have to say yes, I did," he finally said. "Seeing how well it worked for Rachel, the positive effect it had on her behavior and the way it fulfilled a deep-seated need was satisfying for me too. Rachel once told me I was born to be a disciplinarian. Whether that's necessarily true…." Here Gibbs paused to shrug his shoulders.

"I think she was spot on," said Jenny. "You command authority and respect without having to demand it. It's just who you are. Yet, compassion and empathy are also very much a part of who you are. While some may see your actions as arrogant or boorish, others recognize a born leader who brings out the best in his people."

"It's all about perspective, hey?" surmised Gibbs.

"Exactly," agreed Jenny.

"So," began Gibbs, directing the topic of conversation back to Jenny. "If it's not a disciplinarian you want, what is it you're looking for?"

Jenny sighed and picked at her finger nails.

"I don't really know," she eventually said. "I know what I don't want. I don't want someone who just steps in when a spanking is needed. I don't want someone I have to report to, someone who is distant and with whom I have no connection. For me, spanking is more than just discipline. It's an intimate act between two consenting adults. And, just as the reasons for a spanking can shift and change so, too, can the type of spanking."

Gibbs nodded as he listened attentively to her words. She impressed him with her surety and conciseness. While he often struggled to find the right words he needed, Jenny had no problems in relaying her thoughts.

"Tonight," Jenny continued, willing her face not to betray her by blushing, "I needed to let go of my own pent up emotions and stress. The spanking wasn't discipline, as yesterday's had been. It was more….well… it was more a type of therapy I guess. I needed to release the guilt and you were able to take me to a place where that was possible. Not many have been able to do that."

As she looked up at him, Gibbs saw the sincerity in her eyes.

"You said earlier," began Gibbs, picking up on one particular point, "the spanking I gave you yesterday was distant and cold. And yet, you still desire to be disciplined?"

He waited until she nodded in the affirmative.

"Then I need to know what is going to work for you should you need to be disciplined. Obviously, you're not Rachel, and what worked for her isn't what you want. So, what do you want when it comes to discipline?"

"I want to feel connected to you," explained Jenny. "Literally," she clarified. "There had to be an element of touch, even if it's just your hand on my back, or my arm held in yours. I know going over your knee isn't always going to be practical, but that would be my preferred position."

Gibbs nodded. What she said made perfect sense and, if he were truly honest with himself, it was the key element that was missing from his agreement with Rachel. With Jenny there was chemistry, a spark. He desired her company and wanted to fulfill her wants and desires. In truth, he wanted a relationship, not an agreement. And, judging by her earlier responses, he was fairly confident Jenny wanted the same thing.

"I…, well, I also need this to be more than just a work-place thing," she continued. "And, I'm hoping that you feel the same way. You said earlier you felt more for me and I told you the feeling was mutual."

Here, Jenny paused and Gibbs could see she was gauging his reaction. And so, to help relieve her anxiety, he leaned closer and cupped her chin with his hand, drawing her lips to him. Tenderly, he sought out the softness, gently capturing her upper lip between his. Then, as she melted into him, returned his attention to the fullness of her mouth, increasing the pressure and passion as he tasted every part of her pouted lips, delving further to explore the inner sanctuary of her mouth.

"Wow," she said breathlessly as Gibbs finally pulled away. "I guess that answers that question."

Gibbs couldn't help the smirk that graced his expression as he looked down at her own, slightly swollen, but smiling lips.

"Would ah…." Standing, he cleared his throat before continuing. "Would you like to continue this upstairs?"

In answer, Jenny also stood and, placing her hands around his neck, pulled his head down to capture his lips once again. Tracing his hands down her back, Gibbs cupped her under the bottom and gently lifted her to him. She responded by instantly wrapping her legs around his waist while her tongue continued to dance with his own.

With her positioned easily in his arms, Gibbs turned and carried her out of the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs where a long night of sweet love making awaiting them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Once again, I must apologise for the delay in updates. For those of you on the facebook page, thank you for all your kind comments and messages of support. What was to be a simple surgery turned, literally, into a nightmare. Without going into too much boring detail, my immune system (normally suppressed by medication which I had to stop taking) went into overdrive and pretty much tried to kill me. I ended up in ICU with a central line (tube in the neck into the jugular vein). My body went into septic shock, my organs tried to shut down and all the blood left my lower arms and legs leaving me with further nerve damage. They pumped me full of adrenalin and other life saving meds including strong antibiotics until, thankfully, I began to hold my own. It's taken a while to get back to normal and sadly I have been left with some permanent damage, but I am thankful to be alive.**

 **I'm still very tired but I'm trying to update when I can. I will update Australian Adventure next and, believe it or not, I have actually started a third story which I hope to post soon. I've had the idea for a while now and I just had to put it down in writing.**

 **Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter. xx**

Chapter 10

Present Day (2005)

As his basement slowly came back into view, Gibbs' mind focused once again on her through the ribs of his current aquatic creation. As proud as he was of her becoming the director of NCIS, he still couldn't shake the opinion it was a waste of a good agent.

"I can't believe you would give up field work for rubber chicken dinners." He had meant for the words to end their discussion but, as per usual, she had a comeback ready.

"I don't think they serve that dish at Palena," she retorted.

"Never heard of it," he replied dismissively, mounting the stairs two at a time and leaving her standing alone in the darkened room.

"Why would you? It isn't take-out."

Fine, he thought as he about-turned. She didn't want to let this discussion go, then neither did he. Goading for more information, he rounded on her.

"So, which of the tight sphincters is taking you out to dinner? Please tell me it's not Fornell."

He'd meant it as a joke, a snide remark referring to way Tobias had married his ex-wife. But Jenny's next words had all attempts at joking vanish from his thoughts.

"CBS Early Show. They want background before I go on TV."

Fear struck at his very core. As her words echoed in his ear, he descended the stairs until he was just one step above her. His heart thumped with adrenaline. There was no way she could do that interview. To expose herself to the public would only expose her to Ari and, God forbid, he should ever learn of their history. But how the hell was he going to convince her of the danger. He knew how stubborn she could be, how strongly she defended her position. Yelling and demanding wouldn't work, she'd only yell right back and dig her heels in further.

Lost for words, he muttered the first thoughts that travelled from his brain to his mouth.

"Jen, Jen, you can't do that," he begged.

"Excuse me," remarked Jenny, raising both eyebrows in a show of incredulity.

For a second Gibbs was tempted to level her with a similar look. But he knew those days were well behind them. He was no longer looking at Probationary Agent Jenny Shepard. Hell, he wasn't even looking at Agent Shepard. No, the strong, self-assured woman standing before him was now his superior, Director Jenny Shepard.

And yet, despite knowing this, he couldn't help but still see her as, 'his Jen'. For far too long he had basked in the intimacy of this assumption, never once dreaming it could all come crashing down around him.

Closing the distance between them, Gibbs leaned into Jenny. Hoping his words would scare her into changing her mind he said, "Ari is a chauvinist. He is taking out the women I work with before me."

He should have known better. He could count on one hand the amount of times Jen had been intimidated by anyone. Returning his gaze with a determinedness of her own, she attempted to mollify him with reason

"Jethro," she began calmly, albeit with a hint of patronizing anger. "People who should know don't believe Ari Haswari is the sniper. And you haven't provided any evidence to prove them wrong."

Despite the urge to stare her down, Gibbs softened his expression. Leaning even closer, he lowered his voice and asked, "Have you ever doubted me?"

For the briefest of seconds, Jenny's mind scurried back to seven years earlier. They had stood in this very spot, the ribs of the Gibbs' latest creation the only thing that separated them. Pushing the memory away, she regained control of her thoughts and replied with determined certainty.

"Professionally? Never."

"Then, why are you doubting me now?"

(1998)

Monday's early morning rays filtered through the thick drapes. The dappled light landed softly across Jenny's face awaking her to the new dawn. She opened her eyes slowly then, remembering what day it was, closed them quickly in the hopes she could pretend it was still dark outside.

"Morning beautiful."

She smiled to herself as she felt Jethro lips dance across her neck. In a final ditch effort to avoid reality, she groaned softly and rolled away from him, pulling up the sheet and burying her head into the pillow. It didn't work. Within seconds, his large hands were snaking up her back until his fingers gently swept her hair behind her ears revealing her face.

"Go away," she muttered in mock annoyance. "It's too early."

"It's zero six hundred," murmured Gibbs into her ear. "Time for all good agents to be up and heading to work."

Jenny smiled mischievously as she rubbed her ear where his murmured words had caused a slight tickle. "But what if I'm not a good agent?" she said, pulling away from him slightly and further into the pillow.

"Then we start the morning with a spanking, young lady," replied Gibbs, his words soft and flirtatious as his hand moved down to her backside where it began to lightly squeeze the firm globes.

"Mmmm," moaned Jenny, wriggling her bottom seductively at his touch. "Sounds like a wonderful way to start the working week."

The had spent the weekend cooped up in Gibbs' bedroom occasionally making it downstairs to find something to eat or drink before hastily retreating to the confines of the bedroom again. Their lovemaking had been fierce and rough to begin with. Two souls trying desperately to become one. But, as the weekend wore on, a patient gentleness had descended allowing the two to explore each other's deeper needs and desires.

By Sunday morning both were famished. They had finished off the leftover takeaway the night before and were currently facing down two apples and a rather overripe banana.

"I need more than this," said Jenny biting into one of the apples before immediately spitting it out. "Yuck! How long have they sat in the bowl, Jethro?"

"How should I know," replied Gibbs grinning.

Jenny gazed at him incredulously while the hands on her hips caused the NIS T-shirt she'd borrowed from Gibbs to rise even higher over her shapely thighs. She certainly didn't miss the lust filled look that crossed Gibbs' eyes. As he reached out her grab her, she stepped backwards.

"I need food Jethro," she said firmly. "And, no," she added seeing his eyes flicker to the cupboard. "Crackers are not going to cut it this time."

Seeing his shoulders slump slightly, Jenny moved herself to nestle into his chest. Standing on tiptoes, she lifted her mouth to his ear.

"If you bring me food," she whispered bewitchingly, "I'll teach you all about giving good girl spankings."

Gibbs' eyebrows suddenly shot up as he looked down at her. The look was so comical, Jenny found herself giggling. When Gibbs' look quickly shifted to one of slighted indifference, Jenny wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Jethro" she said, her voice muffled against the taut muscles of his chest as she placed several kisses against his skin. "But your look was priceless. I'm guessing you've not heard of good girl spankings?"

"I'm thinking I'm not sure you really deserve a good girl spanking after that," he replied, his hands cupping her bottom seductively. "Good girl implies you've been good!" His final word was emphasized with a sharp smack to her bottom.

"Hey!" she squealed sharply. "Not fair!"

"I don't play fair," he whispered against her ear.

"I've noticed," she replied derisively.

Ducking out from under his grasp she added, "Still doesn't take away from the fact I'm starving."

Gibbs let out a long, suffering sigh.

"Fine," he said. "Can I at least get dressed first."

Jenny eyed him appreciatively. The checkered boxers being the only attire he sported, gave her an excellent view of his well-toned and muscled physique.

"Hmmm," she hummed in mock thought. "Well, I don't think the general public is quite ready for the uncensored Jethro Gibbs, so….." she held her index finger to her cheek. "getting dressed is probably a good idea."

Shaking his head at her sass, Gibbs turned and mounted the stairs two at a time. Within two minutes he reappeared, jeans and sweatshirt now covering his body.

"Do you want me to come?" asked Jenny, enjoying the way the jeans hugged his hips perfectly.

"I think we'll save that for later," replied Gibbs, the obvious innuendo not missed by Jenny who immediately rolled her eyes.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me, Miss?" he asked, a sudden sternness filling his demeanor.

"Ah, yeah," replied Jenny, frowning at the sudden change in him. "Why, is that a problem?"

"Eye rolling is disrespectful," began Gibbs.

"Agreed," interrupted Jenny. "However, my eye roll was in response to a light-hearted, if not blatantly suggestive, remark. It wasn't given as a means of being disrespectful."

"And," continued Jenny, seeing Gibbs was about to argue, "before we start labeling certain behaviors as spankable, we need to set down some ground rules."

Gibbs quirked an eye-brow.

"Spankable? Is that even a word?"

"Is now," replied Jenny crossing her arms over her chest.

"So, how do we decide what's _spankable_?" asked Gibbs, enjoying the sound of the word.

"Together," replied Jenny decisively. "But, after food," she added.

"Fair enough," replied Gibbs grabbing the keys from the side table. "I'll be back in ten. And don't you dare get dressed. I like you in the shirt."

Smiling as he turned and headed out the door, Jenny glanced down at the shirt which barely covered her backside. Her bare backside, she mentally noted, having not bothered to put on panties as she'd hastily dressed in her desire to find food.

"No wonder you like the shirt," she muttered to herself before heading back into the kitchen to put on the coffee machine.

"Food you might lack, Jethro," she said, continuing her monologue. "But God forbid the coffee runs out!"

True to his word, Gibbs returned ten minutes later laden with a variety of breakfast foods in brown paper bags and two coffees juggled precariously on top. Taking the two coffees before they tumbled to their demise, Jenny placed them on the dining table and took a seat.

"Wasn't sure what you wanted so I got a variety," said Gibbs, almost dropping the paper bags on the table.

Diving in, Jenny was pleased to see pancakes and bagels along with a selection of condiments. At the bottom lay a Styrofoam container which, upon opening, Jenny surmised to be Gibbs'.

"I'm guessing this would be yours?" she's said, handing him the hot breakfast selection of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. As he reached out to take it, she added mischievously. "Hmmm, now what if I wanted a hot breakfast instead?"

"Then I would offer it to you and have pancakes and bagels," he replied, not taking the bait. "But, seeing how your eyes lit up upon spying the bagels, I'm guess the hot breakfast is safe with me?"

Jenny laughed.

"And that's why you're a great agent," she said taking a bagel and proceeding to smother it in butter. "It's those terrific powers of observation."

They ate breakfast in comfortable silence, both focused on their food. When Jenny finally looked up, two bagels and half a pancake later, it was to find Gibbs sipping thoughtfully on his coffee.

"Penny for them," she said.

"Huh?"

"I said, penny for them," repeated Jenny. "Your thoughts," she clarified.

Taking another sip of coffee, Gibbs smiled. "Only a penny?"

"Well, I guess that all depends on what you were thinking about," replied Jenny.

"You, actually," said Gibbs, raising one eyebrow.

"Well in that case, I raise the stakes to at least a dollar."

They both laughed and Jenny mentally noted how beautiful his laugh was.

"You should laugh more often," she said, voicing her thoughts. "It suits you."

Choosing not to reply, Gibbs stood and cleared the table of rubbish and leftovers. Then, taking the opportunity to change the subject, he returned to his seat and asked, "So, what's a good girl spanking?"

The shift in conversation wasn't missed by Jenny. She found his aversion to being the topic of conversation slightly annoying but realized it was irrational to feel that way. So, he was a man of secrets? She couldn't very well fault him on that, not with her own hidden agenda staring her in the face. Yet, there hung around Gibbs a deep sadness, well beyond that of her own. A sadness that reached down and penetrated his very soul, making him a prisoner of his own existence. However, despite her curiosity, this was territory upon which she would not trespass. Her own need for privacy would not allow her to inquire further. It would be Gibbs' call should he decide to share with her further.

Instead, she said, "Something that will have to wait. We need to talk first."

"About?"

"Us."

She watched as Gibbs nodded once and slowly raised the take-out coffee cup to his lips. "Ah huh," he replied thoughtfully.

"The thing is," continued Jenny, shifting in her seat until she sat crossed legged, Indian style on the wooden chair. "As fun as this weekend has been, we really need to address the issue that brought us here in the first place."

"The Simons' case?" It was obvious Gibbs was confused.

"No," replied Jenny quickly. "Not the case. We've well and truly, covered that one."

Gibbs remained silent, once again forcing Jenny to continue talking.

"I mean our relationship," she said. "And, whether or not, it actually is a relationship. Do you see this as being more than just this weekend?"

The slow and laborious sip Gibbs took from the coffee cup infuriated Jenny.

"For God's sake, will you say something!"

He looked at her then and Jenny could see the slight twitch of his head and the infinitesimal lift of that one eyebrow.

"I don't have one night stands, Jen,' he said his voice soft yet brimming with an aggrieved honesty. "I thought I made it fairly clear on Friday evening that I had feelings for you."

Shamed by his words, Jenny flushed. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I guess I just had to be sure. This kind of relationship demands a lot of trust and that's an area I find difficult to judge sometimes."

"OK," replied Gibbs and Jenny instinctively knew that was all he was going to say on the matter.

"So, I guess we need to set some ground rules," she continued, pleased to have moved on from the awkwardness of a few seconds ago.

"Ah, the so called _spankable_ offenses?" offered Gibbs, grinning over the coffee cup.

"Yes, that," agreed Jenny, "But there's more to it. You and I not only have a personal relationship but there's a working one as well and we need to make sure the two are separate. By that, I mean, what may be acceptable at work may not be at home and vice versa."

"I would have thought unacceptable is unacceptable regardless of where we are," said Gibbs.

Jenny could tell by the way he straightened in his chair he wasn't agreeing with her assessment of the rules.

Sighing, she said, "How about we start with the basics. And, yes," she added, seeing that eyebrow raise again. "By that I mean spankable offenses. For me, it's always been about the three D's."

Using her fingers to count them off, Jenny said, "Disobedience, Disrespect and Danger, as in, deliberately putting oneself in a dangerous situation. I agree that engaging in any of those three should and will result in a discipline spanking. Do you agree?"

"What if our expectations are different?" asked Gibbs. "Like earlier with the eye roll."

"Well, that's where we need to both be open to discussion," replied Jenny. "Eye rolling is disrespectful if it occurs inappropriately. If, for example, you were scolding me for breaking one of the three D's and I rolled my eyes, then yes, you would be well within your rights to spank me. However, like earlier, if we are playing around with each other and teasing, then eye rolling is perfectly fine. Do you see the difference?"

"I do," replied Gibbs. "And, yeah, I agree with you but I'm still not sure what you mean about somethings being acceptable at work and yet not at home."

"Well, the thing is, Jethro, our jobs are naturally dangerous. There are times when my position as an agent will put me in danger. I don't think it's fair to punish me for that," explained Jenny.

"Well of course not," agreed Gibbs. "I don't see-"

"The thing is," interrupted Jenny. "Once you add in the dynamic of a personal relationship, what may have been perfectly fine before suddenly becomes an issue. Your view becomes clouded by your bias. I guess what I'm saying is, if it's not something you would chew Burley out for, then don't get angry at me for the same thing."

For a moment there passed between them a brief silence as Gibbs took in what Jenny had said. Regardless of how he felt, her words made sense and, despite the growling bear which threaten to rise against her reasoning, he found himself nodding and saying, "Fair enough."

"I mean it Jethro," pushed Jenny, not convinced he fully understood what he was agreeing too. "This is a hugely grey area and one in which we need to discuss before any punishment is laid down. I need you to be open to my opinions as well."

"I said, fair enough, and I meant it," repeated Gibbs. "Believe it or not, I do understand what you're saying."

Jenny sighed.

"OK," she finally relented. "Our relationship, including our spanking relationship is very new. There needs to be constant discussion as to what we both see as unacceptable behavior."

"Jen," interrupted Gibbs, placing his hand on hers. "I get it, honestly. And the thing is, unless you consent, there won't be a spanking."

"But that's just it," argued Jenny. "Once we are in a spanking relationship, consent is implied. I want to get to the stage where you take control over what behavior is acceptable."

"And so do I," added Gibbs. "But, to get to that stage, the foundations have to be laid. Don't worry Jen. I will discuss things with you before I take any action. You're gonna have to trust me on that one."

Jenny looked into the piercing blue eyes and knew he spoke the truth. He was right, she was going to have to trust him.

Taking another deep breath, she continued, "So, once we have things established, there will be other more personal things I may ask you to help me with. Things that I feel I want to stop doing or improve in some way and, in doing so, I hope you'll be willing to help me meet those goals." It wasn't a question but Jenny left the sentence hanging, waiting for Gibbs to respond.

"Of course," he said simply. "When the time's right, we can have that discussion."

Putting down his now cold coffee, Gibbs rose from his seat and flicked on the coffee machine. She watched as he turned and leaned against the counter, facing her.

"What?" she asked, questioning the look that was now directed her way.

"I don't know," he said. "Sitting the way you are, the shirt pulled tightly over your knees, you look so….well so vulnerable. I know you'll call me chauvinistic but, I just want to protect you."

"There's nothing wrong with being a chauvinist, Jethro," said Jenny, surprising him with her words. "There are times I even find it sexy."

Uncrossing her legs, she rose from the table and stood in front of him. Lifting her arms until they were wrapped around his neck, she didn't miss the way his eyes drifted to where the shirt had risen just above her hips.

"God, I love you in this shirt," he groaned, his own hands drifting to cup her bare backside and gently stroke the soft skin.

Running his hands down her thighs, he gently bent her knees and hoisted her into his arms. Gripping him tightly around the neck, Jenny felt herself being lifted until her legs straddled his waist, his hands soon returning to cup her bottom. In this position, his fingers could easily brush along her sex while continuing to stroke both her bottom and inner thighs.

"Mmmm," she moaned into his ear. "I think it's time we moved onto a good girl spanking,"

"Me too," he added thickly.

"We're not finished with the discussion though," she added quickly, trying to gain eye contact.

"Oh I think the discussion can definitely wait for a while," he argued, his fingers gently dipping into her wetness and nearly sending her over the edge.

Carrying her to the couch, he sat down and easily flipped her over until she was, once again, laid face down over his knee.

"So," he said, his right hand continuing its tender stroking of her inner thighs, "What's a good girl spanking?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and messages of support. Your reviews are like food for my writer's soul and keep me inspired to write more.**

 **You'll be pleased to know, Chapter 12 is also written and just needs a little tweaking before I post it.**

Chapter 11

They stood opposite each other, the exposed ribs of Gibbs' boat keeping them separated like a cautious mediator. The air was thick with frustration and anger from both parties. Regardless of the numerous punishment threats, Jen stood strong. Her stubbornness matched equal to Gibbs and neither one was showing any signs of backing down.

 **Four days earlier**

"You're looking better than when I last saw you."

Having entered the squad room to see Jenny already perched at her desk, Stan hadn't missed her relaxed demeanor. The serene smile, slightly blocked by the computer screen, was also noticed immediately and Stan's curiosity was sparked.

"Yes, I feel better, thank you," Jenny replied, keeping the conversation light but distant.

"Care to share the miracle cure," probed Stan and he made a beeline for her desk. "Might come in handy after a nasty case."

Glancing away briefly from the computer screen to look at him, Jenny said, "No miracle. Just a relaxing weekend with plenty of sleep."

"Or, a relaxing weekend with plenty of sex," contradicted Stan. "I recognize that satisfied look on your face." He rested one hip on the edge of Jenny's desk. "So, serious boyfriend or just a play toy for the weekend?"

With a look that clearly told him she wasn't even going to grace that comment with a reply, Jenny simply returned her gaze to the computer screen and continued trying to read the dull and very long winded document that filled her screen. She hoped her obvious dismissal of him would see Burley return to his own desk. The last thing she needed was for him to know his initial assessment had been spot on.

Her weekend with Gibbs had been a whirlwind of love-making with an occasional break to either eat or sleep. They had teased and played, explored each other's bodies until she was confident each knew every freckle and blemish the other possessed. Not an inch of flesh was left wanting. But it wasn't until Jenny introduced Gibbs to the world of good girl spankings did she honestly feel she would die of pleasure.

The man had turned out to be a natural. His hands fluctuating between pleasure and pain as he brought her to the brink of near insanity. He would spank just hard enough to bring the blood rushing to the surface of her cheeks, creating a radiating heat across her bottom, before his fingers would stray and caress her intimately. He knew just how hard to smack, enough to cause a delicious sting without seriously hurting. And, oh, those magical fingers, stroking and teasing, bringing her to the very edge of release before he would pull away suddenly to begin spanking again. The constant toying between pleasure and pain kept Jenny in a state of tension, her body begging for release. And, when release finally came, she felt as if she were entering a new world. Her body would explode into a thousand shuddering contractions until, after eventually returning to earth she would lay slumped over his knee, drained of all energy and coherent thought.

She had been treated to a session of such pleasure just this morning before they had faced the reality of another working week. And, an hour later, while Gibbs went for his usual coffee run, Jenny had entered the squad room, her legs still feeling like jelly following the intensity of the explosive orgasm she had experienced.

Feeling her face flush at the memory, Jenny turned her head away from Burley's desk. The last thing she needed was for him to continue where he'd left off not two minutes ago.

It was for this reason she didn't see Director Morrow step into their working space until he was standing in front of her.

"Morning Jenny," he greeted cheerfully.

Despite the small jump at his unexpected appearance, Jenny managed to answer coherently, "Morning Director. How are you today?"

"Well, thanks. I trust you've settled in OK under Gibbs' instruction?"

Oh, I'm very well settled under Gibbs, she thought wickedly. She managed, however, to respond with "Yes, I have thank you, Director."

"That's good to hear. So where is Gibbs," asked Tom, looking around the area; an unnecessary exercise as it was obvious Gibbs wasn't present.

"He just ducked out for coffee, Sir." She looked at her watch. "He should be back any minute."

"No problem," replied Tom.

Mimicking her action, he too looked at his watch. "Ah, could you have him come to my office when he gets in, please?"

"Sure," said Jenny with a smile.

She watched as Tom Morrow left their work space, greeting Stan with a friendly, "Burley," before heading up the stairs.

"Wonder what that's about?" asked Stan as he, too, followed the Director's exit.

"No idea," replied Jenny.

Further speculation was halted when the familiar 'ding' of the elevator announced Gibbs' arrival. Keeping his expression neutral, Gibbs headed for his desk, avoiding eye contact with Jenny.

"Hey Boss," greeted Stan. "Before you sit down, the Director was just here."

Gibbs looked up on the word 'Director' and raised a questioning eyebrow at Burley.

"He wants to see you in his office."

Jenny watched as Gibbs took a contemplative sip of his coffee. Despite his attempts at a neutral expression, Jenny could tell he was curious as to what Morrow wanted. This was confirmed when he glanced briefly at Jenny and, again, raised his eyebrows speculatively.

"Do you think it's about the Simons' case?" asked Stan, clueless to the look that passed between his boss and the Probie.

Turning on his heel, Gibbs answered with a gruff, "No idea," before heading up the stairs leaving a curious Jenny and Stan to stare after him.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Having knocked on the door, Gibbs entered and approached the man sitting behind the ornate wooden desk.

"Morning Jethro," Tom greeted. "Yes, I did. Take a seat."

As Gibbs sat, Tom shuffled through several files on his desk until he found the one he was looking for. Holding it aloft, he fixed Gibbs with a warm smile.

"I think you'll be pleased with this one. Experienced, over thirty and male."

Frowning, Gibbs took the proffered file and opened it. The name, William Decker, was written in bold letters above a photo of a dark haired, clean shaven, thirty something man with a conservative smile. But it was the brown eyes staring at him with honesty and conviction that swayed Gibbs. A quick glance at the resume and Gibbs was quietly optimistic.

Nodding briefly, he looked up at Tom.

"He'll do," he said appreciatively.

Shaking his head slightly, Tom gave a small smile. Coming from Gibbs, that statement was equivalent to a heartfelt thank you.

Holding the file against his chest, Gibbs stood.

"Before you go," said Tom, immediately halting Gibbs' progress. "There's something you should know."

Again, the expressive eyebrows asked the unspoken question..

"He specifically chose you."

"How do you mean?" asked Gibbs frowning. Where he was concerned, anyone who targeted a particular team always evoked a level of suspicion.

"Exactly what I said," replied Morrow. "He approached me asking to join your team. He'd heard you were looking for a fourth member and wanted in. I asked him why, you, specifically and he simply said he wanted the chance to work with you."

"Bull!" exclaimed Gibbs. "I'm not buying that. No one deliberately chooses to work with me."

Morrow laughed at Gibbs' statement.

"I'd have to agree with you there, Jethro. Generally, you're not on the list of top ten easy bosses to work for. However, whether it be a death wish or a macabre curiosity, Decker has requested he join your team and I think he'll fit in well." Tom stood and walked around his desk until he was face to face with Gibbs. "Give him a chance Jethro. He ticks all your boxes"

"Rule three, Sir," replied Gibbs quietly. "Never believe what you're told. Double Check. I'll be making some inquiries of my own if you don't mind."

Tom rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Just play nice, Gibbs. This one's good." He tapped the file to emphasize his point before heading to the door. Opening it, he said, "He starts Wednesday. Clue in your team."

Over the next two evenings, Gibbs burned the midnight oil launching a one-man investigation that would have rivaled the Salem witch trials of 1692. And yet, despite the thorough research and not being able to see Jenny for two nights, Gibbs was unable to find any information on Decker other than the man was an excellent agent. His only crime being the four years he worked as a lawyer before joining NIS in 1989.

And, when Decker arrived two days later, Gibbs found himself instantly liking the man. Trust, he knew, would have to be earned but he had a feeling it wouldn't be long before Decker fulfilled that criteria too.

****NCIS****

Jenny frowned at the quote on the small desk calendar she had placed next to her computer.

' _There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path'_

"Well obviously you," she paused to read the name printed under the quote. "Guatama Buddha, never met Leroy Jethro Gibbs!"

Tearing the sheet of paper away from its counterparts, Jenny scrunched it and threw it angrily at Gibbs' empty desk. The small paper ball violently bounced off the computer monitor and came to a sudden halt in the middle of the floor between the two desks.

"Darts practice?" asked Decker good naturedly as he stepped into the work space. Bending down he picked up the piece of paper.

"No," said Jenny, sighing. "Just a momentary lapse in concentration."

She looked up at William and smiled.

"I was aiming at where his head should be."

Will returned the smile. Unlike Stan, who still remained clueless, it had taken Will less than twenty four hours to figure out Jenny and Gibbs were involved. Unfurling the scrunched paper, he read the quote silently.

"I take it the path to happiness is not so happy at the moment?" He handed the paper back to Jenny before taking a seat at his desk.

"It's fine," replied Jenny nonchalantly. "Nothing that can't be worked out."

Will nodded and quickly busied himself organizing his tasks for the day. Jenny watched him for a few seconds before turning back to her own disaster zone she currently called her desk. She liked Will. She especially liked that, unlike Stan, he didn't badger her once she'd made it clear she didn't wish to discuss a topic any further.

Glancing down at the rumpled piece of paper, Jenny remembered the reason why she'd thrown it in the first place. For two nights, Gibbs had worked tirelessly researching everything he could find about their new team member then, last night, she'd been forced to spend three hours updating her first-aid certificate. So, here she was, Thursday morning, having not spent any time with Gibbs since Monday morning. And, for Jenny, the absence did nothing to improve her mood. The weekend had been intense, fulfilling so many of her deepest desires and fantasies. But now, this sudden bout of abstinence was driving her crazy.

She ached for Gibbs to hold her, make love to her and, yes, spank her. The last three nights had been torture with only her memories for company. And, to make matters worse, last night she'd tossed and turned until nearly three o'clock, unable to rid her mind of the magical way Gibbs' hands made her feel. This, in turn, only infuriated her more because the damn man wasn't there to quench her need of him. To say she had awoken in a foul mood was an understatement. Jenny's 'bitch' meter was well and truly in the red zone and Gibbs was her focused target.

The strangled cry of frustration that escaped her lips not ten minutes later was accompanied by a loud bang as her fist slammed into the desk.

"You alright?" asked Stan who, upon arriving a few minutes earlier, had quickly deduced Jenny's mood. His resolve to stay calm and not make any sudden movements was soon forgotten when a stray pencil flew into the air from the force of Jenny's fist.

"I can't get this damn file to open," she gritted out angrily. "These computers are useless!" She banged on the side of the monitor. "Mine's frozen again!"

"Try closing out and re-opening the file," suggested Will.

"I can't!" replied Jenny. "Didn't you hear me, it's frozen. I can't do anything."

Not perturbed by Jenny's anger, Will said quietly, "Hold down the reset button until it turns off. Then wait for the system to re-boot."

Cursing under her breath, Jenny did as Will suggested. Within a few seconds, the screen flashed and went black. As the slow grinding sounds began signalling the computer's restart, Jenny sighed and rolled her eyes.

Standing abruptly, she stepped out from behind her desk and said to the area at large, "I'll be back in five."

Her whirlwind exit left Stan and Will staring in her wake.

"I guess it's true what they say about redheads having a bad temper," observed Will. "Is she often like that?"

"This is the worst I've seen her," replied Stan. "Although, she's not afraid to speak her mind, particularly to Gibbs. How she doesn't have concussion is beyond me. I'd be in hospital with permanent brain damage if I said half the stuff she does."

Will didn't miss the hidden undertone in Stan's words.

"Gibbs is old school," he said trying to reassure the younger man. "Don't think he could bring himself to head slap a woman. But don't worry. If I know Gibbs, there'd be no way she'd be getting away with it."

Stan snorted derisively.

"Well, unless he's getting her write lines at home, I don't see any consequences happening."

Will laughed. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was. One thing about Gibbs, he's definitely unorthodox. From what I've heard, when it came to dolling out punishments for new recruits, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs could be quite creative."

"Yeah?" said Stan, his curiosity sparked. "How so?"

"Well," began Will but was quickly cut off as Gibbs entered their area and barked,"Trust me Burley, you don't want to know!"

"Morning Gibbs," greeted Will cheerfully.

Stepping up to his desk, Gibbs deposited the steaming cup of coffee on the hard surface. Noticing the empty desk in front of him, he asked, "Where's Shepard?"

"Dunno," replied Burley shrugging. "She said she'd be back in five."

"What the hell's she working on?" Gibbs asked to nobody in particular. He was currently staring at the chaos that was Jenny's desk. Knowing she was usually meticulous about everything being in its place, the disarray before him was completely out of character.

"Pretty sure she was still finishing off the Jones' case from yesterday," replied Stan. "She was having computer problems. When I arrived she was using the monitor for boxing practice. If I were you, Boss, I'd steer clear. With her mood she'd make…ouch!"

Suddenly looking up at Stan's cry of pain, Gibbs caught the tail end of what appeared to be a retaliatory punch from Jenny judging by the way the poor man was cradling his upper arm. Without any acknowledgement of Burley's pain, Jenny stormed past his desk, pushed past Gibbs before wrenching out her chair and sitting forcefully at her desk.

"Damn it!" she cursed loudly, spying the ' _Windows was not shut down properly_ ' message displayed on her monitor screen. "This thing still isn't ready. When the hell are we going to get updated to Windows 98? It's nearly 1999 and we're still blundering along with Windows 95."

"Federal Agency," called Will from his desk. "I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

Ignoring Will's comment, Jenny grabbed a handful of papers and made some attempt to stack them into a neat pile. Without looking up, she knew Gibbs was staring at her. Possibly wondering what was bothering her and probably annoyed at her angry outburst.

"You alright?"

Although his voice was quiet and held some semblance of concern, Jenny knew he wasn't impressed. And, when she finally did look up, it was to be greeted with a steely glare.

"I'm fine!" she snapped.

Without dropping his gaze, Gibbs asked, "What are you working on?"

Gibbs' infuriating calmness, the flashing computer message saying the reboot was only at 68% and her lack of sleep the night before, all combined to create the perfect storm of temper outbursts.

Glaring at him through flashing green eyes, Jenny crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

"What the hell do you think I'm working on! Oh it couldn't be the Jones case you all but threw at me yesterday," she said, sarcasm dripping like venom. "Cause that wouldn't make any sense at all now, would it?"

Abruptly turning, Gibbs walked away from her and towards the elevator. Thinking he was about to let her outburst slide, her stomach plummeted when he called over his shoulder, "With me!"

Without looking at either co-worker, Jenny held her head high and followed Gibbs out. Despite her outward show of bravado, she felt anything but brave right now. She knew she had crossed a line and, judging by the determination in Gibbs' step, he was definitely pissed about it.

When the elevator doors closed, sealing her doom, Jenny knew the lecture would soon begin. She didn't have long to wait. Within seconds of the makeshift office whirring into action, Gibbs had slammed on the emergency brake.

"What the hell was that about?" he barked, rounding on her sharply.

"I'm sorry, OK?" she began hopefully. "I was out of line and I shouldn't have spoken to you that way."

"Me?" Gibbs all but yelled. "No one deserves that level of venom. So, what's the problem?"

Jenny slumped against the back wall of the elevator.

"I'm just tired," she said crossly. "I barely got any sleep last night and when I finally got to work the damn computer kept freezing. Besides…" Softening her voice, she straightened and stepped towards him. "I haven't seen you in three nights. I need a hug."

"Oh trust me," he replied ominously, "it isn't a hug you need!"

Not missing the meaning behind his words, Jenny instantly felt her face blushing.

"That kind of behavior is inappropriate at best and downright rude at worst. I don't expect any of my team to behave that way. Have I made myself clear?"

Unable to look him in the eye, Jenny nodded her head and murmured a quiet, "Yes."

"Good! Now turn around."

Her eyes flew up to meet his. She knew his intention. She was about to receive her equivalent of a head slap.

"I said I was sorry, Gibbs." Even she inwardly cringed at the pleading she could hear in her own voice.

"I know," replied Gibbs. "But that doesn't mean you escape the consequences. Now turn around or it will be much worse."

Despite his words, Jenny couldn't bring herself to willing offer her backside for punishment. Her stubbornness and pride simply wouldn't allow it. And so, as she stood there, refusing to move, she knew Gibbs' patience was about to run out.

Suddenly, his left arm snaked around her middle and Jenny felt herself being bent at the waist. Within seconds, a rapid flurry of searing smacks descended on her bottom. With Gibbs' arm holding her firmly in place, Jenny had no option but to accept the spanking that rained down on her. Small yelps escaped her lips as her ears were filled with Gibbs' scolding voice.

"I don't want to ever see that kind of temper display from you again. Not at home, not when we're out and especially not in the workplace. If you have something to say, you say it with respect. No one deserves that level of attitude from you or anyone else. Have I made myself clear!"

It felt to Jenny as if he'd punctuated every second word with a stinging smack but, in reality, only a dozen swats were actually applied.

"Yes!" she all but yelled in response to his question. "I'm sorry!"

Unfurling his arm from around her waist, Jenny was freed to stand straight again. Instantly her hands flew to her backside to rub out some of the sting.

"No rubbing," said Gibbs sternly, taking her hands and bringing them around to her front. "If you had simply turned around when asked, you would have received two swats," he continued scolding, his eyes locked on hers. "But your stubbornness and pride just cost your backside dearly. Next time, do as your told."

Jenny knew her face must have been as red as her rear end. As her eyes began to sting with tears, Gibbs gathered her into his arms and hugged her close.

"Now you can have your hug," he said and she knew he was smirking.

Reaching out she slapped him on the arm.

"Don't make fun of me," she said, her lips pouting as she spoke. "It's been a tough week."

Remembering what she'd said earlier, Gibbs asked, "Why couldn't you sleep last night?"

Pulling away, she looked at him pitifully.

"I missed you. I was all hot and bothered and all I had were my memories of you." Reaching down she rested her hand over the zipper of his pants and squeezed gently. Hearing the small intake of breath, Jenny grinned mischievously. "I needed you to spank me then make mind-blowing love to me," she added, continuing to caress the quickly growing bulge in his pants.

Taking her hand in his, Gibbs gave her a warning glare.

"Well you managed the spanking part," he said sternly. "You'll have to wait until tonight for the rest."

Huffing loudly, Jenny said, "That wasn't exactly the kind of spanking I had in mind."

"Well, it was exactly the kind of spanking you deserved," replied Gibbs without pause. "And if you don't behave, I'll be more than happy to repeat it."

"Mmmm," moaned Jenny as she rubbed her body against him. "I love it when you get all stern and manly. It really turns me on."

When his hand swatted her backside once again, Jenny squealed before giggling into his chest.

"You, young lady, had better watch yourself," he warned playfully.

"Are you sure we can't have a little fun in here?" she asked, her hand once again seeking out his arousal.

"No, Jen," he said firmly, gripping her hand but, this time, holding it behind her back.

Jenny sighed wistfully.

"Oh well, I guess I'll just have to wait until tonight," she lamented softly.

Leaning in, Gibbs kissed her before saying, "Good things come to those who wait."

Jenny smiled at him. Her eyes burned with a smoldering fire and her body ached for his touch. As he reached out and set the elevator in motion, she whispered seductively, "And I'll be ready and waiting, make no mistake."

As they both prepared to enter the squad room, Gibbs cell phone rang loudly. The instant he began talking, Jenny knew they had a case. When the elevator doors opened, they both rushed forward towards their work space.

"Grab your gear," called Gibbs as he reached his desk.

Surprised by their abrupt entrance, Will and Stan hesitated momentarily before swinging into action.

"We got a case?" asked Stan.

"Hostage situation at a home in Arlington," replied Gibbs grabbing his gun and credentials from the top draw of his desk.

"Since when do we negotiate hostage situations?" questioned Stan.

"Since a dead marine was found lying on the front lawn."

Will and Stan exchanged looks.

With Jenny already on her return journey to the elevator, Gibbs was soon following close behind.

"Hurry up, you two," he barked over his shoulder. "The hostages are the dead marine's wife and two children."

Arriving on scene, the four agents quickly assessed the situation. Police surrounded the front of the house, guns drawn while one tried to negotiate with the perpetrator. As Will opened the back of the van, Jenny and Stan stepped in to take out what they needed. Turning briefly, Jenny saw Gibbs cautiously run towards the negotiator to get a sit rep. Noting he had made it without incident, she cast a quick look at the dead man lying near the trunk of a large maple tree. Already on scene, Ducky was squatting next to the body and preparing to jab him with the liver probe.

"Perp is inside," began Gibbs when he returned to the van. "Witnesses say they heard gun shots then our dead Marine was seen stumbling from the front entrance. He collapsed where he is now. Local LEOs have the house surrounded and have moved forward to enable us to work the crime scene. Duck's working out T.O.D." Gibbs paused to glance towards the M.E. before continuing. "I don't need to tell any of you this is a volatile situation. We need to work the crime scene quickly and get the body back to NCIS. Burley, Decker, work together to photograph and sketch the crime scene. I want accurate measurements as we'll need them later. Shepard, bag and tag. I'll be talking to the neighbors and taking witness statements, along with checking in with the negotiator. We clear?"

With a firm, "Yes Boss," from Stan, he and Will jogged over to the body and began work.

Grabbing Gibbs' arm, Jenny whispered a brief, "Stay safe," before she, too, headed towards the crime scene.

Thirty minutes later, the four of them had managed to take from the crime scene all they needed and were preparing to move the body. As Ducky and his assistant approached with the gurney, a sudden flurry of movement had them all looking towards the house. Two loud bangs echoed loudly.

"Down!" yelled Gibbs and the four of them immediately hit the ground, their hands covering their heads defensively.

After a few second of silence, Jenny looked up and saw a pillar of smoke billowing from the front window.

"The house is on fire!" she yelled. "There's children in there."

Pointing to the car in the driveway, Gibbs directed his team to take cover.

"We need to help!" yelled Jenny above the sound of the roaring flames.

"Jen, there's nothing we can do," replied Gibbs. "We're not wearing the right gear for this situation. The perp is armed. Local LEOs have it under control."

Knowing he was right still didn't quell the helpless feeling Jenny felt just standing by and watching.

A movement to her left had Jenny suddenly alert. Watching carefully, she saw the side gate slam open. With a panicked cry of help, a woman raced out from behind the gate carrying a small toddler in one arm while her other hand gripped tightly to a slightly older child who tried desperately to keep up with her. Rushing towards the barricade of police, she didn't see the tree root protruding from the ground. Her strangled cry was muffled as she fell heavily, twisting her body to avoid smothering the toddler in her arms. In doing so, her grip on the other child was severed. As an officer rushed over to the woman and the now screaming toddler, the other child, realizing he was separated from his mother, clambered to his feel and began running in the opposite direction.

Unable to sit by and watch, Jenny raced forward, ignoring Gibbs' angry yell.

Within seconds she reached the small boy and grabbed him around the waist. Tucking him under her arm, she sprinted back to the safety of her team.

The little boy screamed for his mother who, shielded by a large male officer, ran towards him and took him into her arms.

Hugging her child close, the woman's eyes sought out Jenny.

"Thank you, thank you," she sobbed.

Before Jenny had any chance to respond, the woman and child were ushered away, once again protected by the officer who towered over them.

A mix of adrenalin and shock rushed through Jenny as she tried to comprehend what had just taken place. With the woman's grateful cries still ringing in her ears, a sense of achievement washed over her. It was therefore a shock when her arms were suddenly gripped tightly and Gibbs all but yelled in her face.

"What the hell were you thinking!"

Shocked by the sudden anger, Jenny was rendered speechless. Gibbs, on the other hand, had plenty to say.

"You were not authorized to leave this area," he said angrily. "Running out there could have seen both you and that child killed!"

Letting go of one arm, he gestured wildly towards the burning house. "There's an armed man in there, desperate and probably panicked by the escape of his hostages. He could have easily had eyes on you. I said we weren't geared up for this situation. Every one of those officers is wearing a bullet proof vest and there you go, running out into an open space with no protection and no backup!"

Feeling her own anger rise at the injustice of the berating, Jenny fought back.

"There was a child that needed help!" she yelled passionately. "He was only five yards away. I was closer than any of those men out there. The woman and baby were safe, but that child wasn't and he was headed straight back for the house. It took me only seconds to reach him and get him back here to safety. Seconds, Gibbs!"

"And it would have taken only a split second for your life and the life of that child to taken by a bullet."

Gibbs' counter argument echoed around her and for a moment she was brought crashing back to reality. But, as her brain assessed the situation, she knew she would have done the same thing every time. She didn't understand why Gibbs was so angry. She hadn't disobeyed a direct order. If anything, she'd used her initiative and stepped in when help was needed. And, as a result, that small child was alive and safe. Gibbs' anger just wasn't justified, she rationalized. She hadn't done anything wrong.

Opening her mouth to verbalize her conclusions, Jenny was shocked when Gibbs released her arms and pointed towards the van ordering, "Get in the van now and don't move!"

When Jenny continued staring at Gibbs, Will and Stan stood and quietly left the scene deciding to seek solace in Ducky and the body that was now being loaded onto the gurney.

"Didn't you hear me?" asked Gibbs incredulously. "I said, get in the van. Now!"

"I'm not a child you can send away Gibbs," yelled Jenny, finally finding her voice. "I haven't done anything wrong."

Momentarily closing his eyes, Gibbs took a deep breath before saying, "We will discuss this later. Right now, I want you to get in the van and wait there for the rest of us."

When Jenny continued to stare at him defiantly, Gibbs pulled her towards him and, bringing his mouth next to her ear, said in a dangerously low voice, 'Unless you want to give everyone here a front row view of you getting your backside blistered, I'd suggest you do as I've asked."

Jenny knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Gibbs would never carry out his threat. Discipline was for teaching, not humiliation. However, the simple fact that he'd voiced the threat in the first place showed her just how pissed he truly was.

With an anger that rivaled that of the man who stood beside her, Jenny wrenched her arm out of his grasp and stormed towards the van. Opening the door, she clambered inside. Her eyes stung with hot, angry tears but Jenny refused to let them fall.

"I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done, Gibbs," she muttered furiously to herself. "This is exactly what I was talking about the other night. You let your feelings for me get in the way of the job. If Decker or Burley had done what I did, you'd be patting them on the back and handing out cigars!"

She slapped her hand against the back of the seat.

"Damn it Gibbs!" she cursed hotly. "Why do you have to be so infuriating!"

Her angry monologue was interrupted as Gibbs opened the driver side door and climbed in. Fitting the keys in the ignition, he wordlessly turned over the engine and put the van into gear.

"Where are the others?" asked Jenny, her curiosity outweighing her silent promise to never speak to him again.

"Catching a lift with Ducky." Gibbs' tone was cold and unforgiving.

As the van roared into action, Jenny looked out the passenger window to see any sign of her co-workers.

"They could have come with us," she eventually said. "I don't plan on speaking to you anyway."

"Suits me," retorted Gibbs. "However, they couldn't have come with us as we're not going back to NCIS."

Jenny turned to him in surprise as a familiar fluttering began in her stomach.

"Where are we going?"

"Home," said Gibbs abruptly. "You and I have some unfinished business to take care of."


	12. Chapter 12

**A big thank you to those who have taken the time to review. I can't say enough, how much I appreciate it. If you can, please keep them coming - thank you xx**

Chapter 12

Feeling her temper rising steadily, Jenny paced the length of Gibbs' basement floor.

'What the hell is he playing at making me wait down here,' she inwardly fumed. 'He has no right, no right at all!'

As she rounded the edge of Gibbs' latest creation, she was sorely tempted to give the wooden structure a drastic make-over. However, deciding she didn't need to add willful damage to her current list of alleged transgressions, Jenny sidestepped the skeletal framework, kicked, instead, the back wall and continued muttering furiously to herself. When she finally heard his footfall on the first step, her temper was almost out of control. As far as she was concerned, she didn't deserve to be disciplined and she certainly didn't deserve to be subjected to whatever game he was playing.

When Gibbs finally reached the bottom step, Jenny violently pushed herself away from the back wall and stepped forward. With her arms crossed tightly over her chest, she glared at him through the wooden ribs of his boat.

"How dare you send me down here for a time out!" raged Jenny. It was taking all her effort not to lash out physically.

Shocked by her anger, it took a second for Gibbs to gather his thoughts.

"I didn't," he replied, keeping check of his own anger. "I sent you down here to spank you."

Further angered by his calmness, she practically shrieked, "So why was I kept waiting for nearly fifteen minutes?"

"My phone rang," explained Gibbs quietly.

As his words sunk in, a large portion of her bravado fled the scene and was reluctantly replaced by a small measure of regret.

"Oh," was all she could muster.

"Oh?" repeated Gibbs, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. "Is that all you have to say?"

Sensing Gibbs' calm exterior was about to break, Jenny replied contritely, "When you didn't come down immediately, I thought you were…well, doing the equivalent of sending me to my room."

"So instead of coming back upstairs to find out what had happened or to discuss the issue, you decided to huff and puff and put yourself into a fit of temper?"

Jenny felt her face redden at his words. It was true. Even if he hadn't intended to treat her like a child, she was hardly behaving like a rational adult. However, she wasn't about to let a good bout of temper go wasted. Still angry about the way Gibbs had treated her at the crime scene, Jenny easily shifted gear and continued her ranting.

"I don't know why I was sent down here in the first place. I certainly don't deserve a spanking," she argued hotly. "I didn't do anything wrong today."

Gibbs stared at her incredulously.

"Didn't do anything wrong? How do you figure that?"

"I did what anyone would have done," yelled Jenny, her arms gesturing wildly as if to articulate her point. "You only became angry because of our personal relationship. And that's why you saw my actions as dangerous."

"I saw your actions as dangerous because that's exactly what they were. It had nothing to do with our personal relationship," snapped Gibbs angrily.

"Oh really?" replied Jenny sarcastically. "So, if Decker had done the same thing, you would have sent him back to the van as well?"

She stepped back slightly as Gibbs leaned forward and slapped his hands on the ribs of the hull.

"Yes!" The word was said between clenched teeth.

Jenny stared at him for a long time, assessing his answer. When she finally accepted he was telling the truth, she changed tactics.

"How was what I did, wrong? You would have done the same thing!"

"That's different," growled Gibbs

"Why, because you're a man?" snarled Jenny

"No, because I'm the boss!"

Once again, Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

"Never thought you'd pull the 'I'm the boss and you'll do as I say' card," she sneered.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs closed his eyes. Jenny was reminded of someone counting to ten before speaking. He was obviously trying very hard to keep his temper in check. When he finally opened them, she could almost feel the steely glare penetrate her very soul. Yet, when he began to speak, his words were measured and controlled.

"If risks need to be taken, I'm the one who'll take them. Not because I'm a man, not because I don't trust anyone else but because the buck stops with me. As team leader I'm responsible for you, Burley and Decker. Should anything happen to one of you, I'm the one who has to justify your actions, I'm the one who has to ring your families, I'm the one who has to live with the consequences."

Understanding suddenly flashed across Jenny's face.

"Do you get it now?" barked Gibbs, the control on his anger slowly slipping away. "As team leader there's no way in hell I'd ask you to do anything I wouldn't do myself and, should it be possible for me to do it instead of one of you, then I will. I will not live with your death on my conscience!"

Jenny dropped her head and nodded slowly. She should have known. Gibbs was not an arrogant man. Chauvinistic, yes, but arrogant, no. She had misjudged him, assumed his motives and fallen well short of the truth.

"I get it," she whispered.

"Good," snapped Gibbs, still angry with having to justify his actions. "Do you also get that you were not cleared to step forward and take that child?"

"But I was closest and the child was headed back for the house," she argued.

"Closest?" yelled Gibbs. "By what? Three yards? The cops would have reached that child only a couple of seconds later."

"It only took me a few seconds to get that child to safety," argued Jenny

"You. Were. Not. Cleared. To. Take. That. Child!" Each word was delivered distinctly as Gibbs continued to glare at her.

"I didn't think I had to wait for an order," snapped Jenny defensively. "Last time I checked I wasn't a robot. I have a brain and can make decisions. In most jobs, it's called initiative."

"In most jobs, it doesn't get you killed!"

"OK!" yelled Jenny, matching his own anger with her own. "I get it!"

"Do you?" bellowed Gibbs. "Do you really get it? Because if you do, then I shouldn't hear any more arguing. What you did was reckless and dangerous. You took matters into your own hands without authorization or protection."

Jenny met his words with silence. She did get it. If she were honest with herself, she knew she had been in the wrong from the moment Gibbs confronted her. Without a bullet proof vest, she had taken a stupid risk. But, what had irked her were the double standards she thought he was using against her. She realized now it was nothing to do with double standards and everything to do with responsibility. It was Gibbs' responsibility to see she made it home each day.

"I'm sorry." The words tumbled out, heartfelt and sure.

"What are you sorry for?" Although his voice had softened, Gibbs wasn't about to let this go.

"I'm sorry I misjudged you. You were right. I didn't think about the responsibilities you have as team leader. I assumed you were angry because of our personal relationship."

"As I said earlier," reiterated Gibbs. "When we're out in the field I'm just as responsible for Burley and Decker as I am for you."

"I know," acknowledged Jenny.

"But, to use your earlier words, neither am I a robot." Gibbs sighed and leaned against the boat. "I can't just switch off my feelings for you because we're at work. When we're out in the field we are automatically putting ourselves into positions that are dangerous. I accept that. What I don't accept is when one of my team goes off script and needlessly puts themselves at risk. I can't have your back when your back is charging away from me without any warning or protection"

Watching him as he spoke, Jenny could see the anguish in Gibbs' eyes and hear the sincerity in each word.

"And, I admit, when it's you risking your neck unnecessarily, my fear doubles. I can't help that. It won't stop me from assigning you field work or sending you into a volatile situation. That's the job. But I can't separate my feelings for you. I can't be your boss during the day and your lover at night and it isn't fair to expect that from me. But in no circumstance, will I ever reprimand you unfairly or discriminate against you. If Burley or Decker had done what you did today, I would be chewing them out right now."

Gibbs paused as he collected his thoughts.

"The difference, Jen, is you and I have an agreement. We have a relationship where you have asked me to punish you when you cross a line whether that be at work or at home. Today, at the crime scene, you crossed several lines. Firstly, you disobeyed me…"

Jenny's head shot up defensively. "When? There was no order saying I couldn't grab that child?"

"You really want to go there?" asked Gibbs incredulously. "I was referring to your refusal to go to the van. However, since you brought it up, I specifically told you there was nothing we could do to help the hostages and pointed out, in no uncertain terms, that we were not geared up to leave our positions and take the risk. That should have been enough of an order. It was for Burley and Decker!"

Jenny looked away and regretted her interruption.

He glared at her for a few more seconds before continuing to list her misdemeanors.

"Secondly, your outburst of temper and constant arguing showed disrespect to both me and NCIS. When you wear that badge you are representing a federal agency. I expect a level of professionalism from you as I would any other agent. If you have a problem with me, or anyone else, you deal with it privately. This is the second time I've had to address this issue. If you remember, your first ever swat from me was for disrespect."

Jenny remembered and her heart sank. A second time offense was not good and she knew Gibbs would deal with it accordingly.

"And finally," Gibbs continued. "We have danger, by far the worst of the three Ds. And again, this is the second time we are addressing this one. Did you learn nothing from the Simons' case and the spanking that followed? I get that it was fairly mild in comparison to what you've received since but I still would have hoped it had some effect. But, I guess not. Well, let's hope today's lesson has more of an impact because you do not want to test me on this a third time."

Jenny felt the knot in her tummy tighten. The closing arguments had been delivered and she now pleaded guilty. With an acceptance and acknowledgment she had been in the wrong, no further discussion was needed and Jenny became painfully aware of the reason she'd been sent to the basement in the first place. An anxious anticipation gripped at her insides.

As she looked up at Gibbs, she knew he had seen the shift in her demeanor and he wasted no time in letting her know her sentence was about to be carried out.

"Come on out from behind there," he ordered softly.

Feeling her body begin to tremble, she did as he asked. As she stepped in front of him and he took hold of both her hands, his eyes suddenly met hers with a look of confusion.

"Why are you shaking?" he asked, having felt the slight tremor in her hands.

"I'm scared," she answered, hardly recognizing the small voice as her own.

"Of me?"

"No, of the spanking," she reassured him. "I know it's going to hurt."

"Yes, it is," he said without hesitation. "As I said, you crossed several lines today and broke all three of your D rules, two of which were for the same offense. I plan to make sure you think twice before doing any of them again."

Jenny felt her stomach drop and her mouth suddenly went dry. With the discipline spanking she'd received in the conference room still fresh in her mind, she asked. "How…how are you going to do it?"

Dropping one of her hands, Gibbs held the other as he gently led her towards the work bench.

An anxious fear gripped at Jenny's heart.

"Please don't make me lean me over that," begged Jenny, her eyes widening in apprehension.

"Hey," said Gibbs, gently stroking her face. "We discussed this, remember?"

When she nodded, he continued. "We agreed, should you ever need discipline, it will always be over my knee unless we both decide otherwise."

Stepping forward, Gibbs reached under the bench and pulled out a wooden stool.

Feeling her knees suddenly turn to jelly, Jenny watched as Gibbs took a seat. When he reached out for her, she hesitated slightly but the instant his hand gently grasped her own and pulled her towards him, she felt comforted by his touch.

Resting his hands possessively on her hips, Gibbs drew her closer until she was nestled between his knees.

"Why are we here?"

When Jenny frowned a little, showing some confusion, Gibbs rephrased his question.

"Why are you about to go over my knee for a spanking?"

Immediately picking at her fingernails, Jenny looked down. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest and she could feel the heat rise steadily up her neck and into her cheeks.

Jen?" he asked again. When he still received no verbal response from Jenny, he further clarified his question. "Why am I about to spank you?"

"Because I put myself in danger by running forward and grabbing that child, I disobeyed you by refusing to go to the van and I showed disrespect by arguing with you and losing my temper." Her stomach sank as she listed each transgression. She was in no doubt this spanking was going to hurt.

"And, what did we agree would happen if you broke one, or in this case, all of the three Ds?" he asked.

"Jethro," she whined, squirming slightly where she stood.

Reaching around her, Gibbs swatted her sharply on the bottom. Jumping more from surprise than any real pain, Jenny's hand immediately flew to cover the targeted area. Without hesitation, Gibbs took hold of her hand and brought it around to her side.

"No rubbing," he said sternly. "Now I asked you a question, young lady, and I expect an answer. I certainly don't want to hear any whining. What did we agree would happen if you broke one of our agreed rules?"

Leaving her fingernails to fend for themselves, Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and let out a small puff of air.

"Do we have to go through all this? Can't we just get it over with?"

A second, harder swat landed in the same place as the first. The two combined to create a sudden burn. Anticipating her move, Gibbs said sternly, "If you even try to reach back, I'll give you five more!"

Jenny stared at him mutely. Since when had he become so dominant. As much as it annoyed her, it was completely turning her on. She both loved and hated this side of him.

"I am asking you this question," began Gibbs firmly. "because I want to be sure you know the consequences of your actions."

Jenny looked down at the basement floor.

Lifting her chin, Gibbs asked, for the third time, "What did we agree would happen if you broke one of the rules?"

Letting out a small, frustrated sigh, Jenny said softly, "I'd get a spanking."

"Exactly," confirmed Gibbs.

"You already knew that," fumed Jenny. "I don't know why I needed to spell it out."

She knew, the moment the words left her mouth, it wasn't a clever idea. This was confirmed when her hand was suddenly taken and she felt herself being twisted to the side. As five hard swats were applied to her already tingling bottom, Jenny found herself performing the spanking dance. Stepping quickly from left to right, her hips danced from side to side as she tried desperately to avoid Gibbs' hand.

When she was turned back to face him, the need to rub her bottom was overwhelming. However, with both her hands now held by Gibbs, this was impossible. Alternating between standing and squatting in an attempt to relieve the burning sensation, she knew she looked ridiculous.

"Jethro! Let go and let me rub out the sting!"

"No!"

His response was immediate and firm.

"This is a discipline spanking, Jen," continued Gibbs sternly. "There will be no rubbing at any time. If you do, I'll be adding penalty swats."

"Penalty swats? What the hell?"

"Extra swats for not doing as you're told," clarified Gibbs.

"I know what they are, Jethro, I just didn't think…"

Realizing what she was saying, Jenny stopped abruptly. The heat radiating from her bottom seemed to travel upwards as she felt her face suddenly blushing.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked, the hint of a smirk beginning to surface. "That I wouldn't know what they were? That I wouldn't do them?"

The heat in Jenny's face intensified with each word he spoke. One thing was becoming abundantly clear; Jethro was a natural at discipline. It was like he'd suddenly taken a crash course in the subject. If it wasn't for the fact she knew he and computers were sworn enemies, she'd question whether he'd researched the subject on the internet.

Still blushing, Jenny replied sheepishly, "Yeah, something like that."

"Well, I guess you're finding out otherwise!"

Reaching forward, he began undoing the button and zipper of her work pants. A sense of shyness suddenly overcame Jenny and her hands flew to the waistband of her pants.

"What are you doing?" asked Gibbs in surprise, pushing her hands out of the way.

Jenny knew she was now blushing furiously and it frustrated her. She'd practically spent all last weekend parading around his house naked so there was no reason for this sudden onset of modesty. However, having him undress her for the sole purpose of upending her over his knee for a discipline spanking was a completely different scenario.

"Can't we just leave them up?" she asked, annoyed at the almost begging tone even she could hear in her voice.

"Jen, I told you last Friday. Once we were in a relationship, all discipline spankings would be on the bare bottom."

Geez, why were his words having such an effect on her. She was about to get her backside blistered but the passion that flooded her sexual core was screaming for release. The sting from the previous swats had abated and a delicious warmth now spread across her bottom until it settled in a pool of wetness she knew would soon be visible to him. A mixture of fear and excitement caused her stomach to flip and turn. He was using his words very carefully and deliberately. He knew exactly what would have the most effect on her and he was right, damn him!

Trying desperately to ignore the tingling sensations that were determined to distract her, Jenny tried to focus on her current predicament. His next action brought her mind crashing back to reality.

For the second time in as many minutes, his large hands reached into the waist-band of her pants and he gently tugged them down. Thankful, for now, that he was leaving her panties in place, the relief didn't last long when Gibbs quietly asked her to step out of her work pants.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because they'll only get in the way. Besides, I doubt you'll be wanting to put them on afterwards anyway. You can lay on the sofa and take a nap while I make us some dinner."

"I'm not taking a nap!" snapped Jenny, forgetting completely the position she was about to be in.

"Are you seriously arguing with me right now?" asked Gibbs in disbelief. "When this spanking is over, you'll be grateful for the chance to rest. Unless, of course, you choose to continue arguing, in which case another round over my knee might be more suitable."

Pouting her lips in indignation, Jenny nevertheless chose to remain silent. Bending down she pulled first one leg and then the other out of the snug fitting tailored pants. Folding them neatly and placing them over a beam of wood, she turned back to face Gibbs, her arms crossed over her chest.

Despite the defiant pose, Jenny decided it was in her best interest to not argue any further. But when Gibbs placed his fingers in the waistband of her panties and began to gently slide them over her hips, she instinctively reached out again to stop the downward action. This time, however, he merely brushed her hands away without speaking and continued pulling until her panties were resting just above her knees.

Feeling completely exposed, she was actually pleased when he gently began lowering her across his lap, supporting her carefully until her head hung surprising close to the floor. In this position, Jenny soon discovered her feet were no longer able to rest on the ground and her bottom was embarrassingly high across Gibbs' knee. Worried at first as to how she would support herself, she felt Gibbs' left arm snake around her and tuck itself snugly against her waist pulling her closer to him and securing her in this position. She immediately felt a rush of cold air and knew she was completely exposed to Gibbs. While this was an ideal position for those wonderful intimate spankings she had experienced just a few days ago, right now, all it did was reinforce just how vulnerable her sit spots and upper thighs were. Not to mention he would be very aware of how aroused she was.

"I see your body seems to think it's about to enjoy some playtime," remarked Gibbs, his voice betraying the amusement he felt.

Feeling as if she would die of embarrassment, Jenny squirmed slightly.

"I can't help it," she all but whispered. "It's just a natural response for me."

"Oh, I get that," replied Gibbs.

Any amusement he may have displayed was now replaced with a steely determinedness and it sent Jenny's stomach plummeting to earth. "But, I'm about to make sure you realize just how serious this is. There will be no pleasure in this spanking, I can assure you."

Feeling his right hand rise above her bottom, Jenny squeezed her eyes shut in preparation for the first official swat. When his hand descended, full force, in the middle of her right bottom cheek, she jumped involuntarily, both from the loud crack that echoed around the basement and the sudden sting that reignited the earlier burn. The sound of skin solidly smacking skin was far louder than she had expected and she wondered momentarily if that was why he had chosen the basement to carry out this spanking. The swat had been hard. Having enjoyed a more playful style of spanking since her Friday night encounter, Jenny had become accustomed to Gibbs gently warming her up, his swats starting lightly and slowly increasing in intensity over time. That first swat had not been light by anyone's standard.

A second swat immediately followed, just as heavy and unforgiving as the first. In addition, it landed in the exact same spot, increasing the sting and eliciting a small yelp from Jenny. Damn it she cursed inwardly. That really hurt. But before she had time to truly acknowledge the pain, a third and even harder swat cracked against her right bottom cheek directly on top of the previous two.

"Jethro!" squealed Jenny as the sting intensified following the three smacks to the same spot. "Move the swats around!"

With his hand raised in readiness for swat number four, Gibbs paused.

"You don't get to control this spanking, young lady," he said sternly. "How many times do I need to remind you? This is discipline, it's not for fun." And, with that he let his hand fall three more times to the middle of her right cheek.

Shocked by how much pain this was eliciting, Jenny tried to wriggle away from the menacing hand. He was right, this wasn't fun. Even the stress release spanking from last Friday hadn't been this painful. At least then, Gibbs had intersperse the spanks with an occasional rub.

When the next three swats landed over the same spot, making nine in total, Jenny felt as if her right bottom cheek was about to self-combust. At long last she felt Gibbs shift slightly and without warning her left butt cheek exploded with the next swat. Her relief at his change in target area was short lived however, as eight more, full forced and stinging swats rained down heavily in the exact same spot, increasing the fire so that her whole bottom felt like it was being attacked by a swarm of angry bees.

"OK!" she suddenly gasped. "I get it! I won't ever do anything wrong again! You can stop now!"

Although a grin wavered across Gibbs' face, his voice was stern and uncompromising.

"We have barely started, Jen," he said firmly.

"But, it hurts!" she wailed uncaring as to how childish she currently sounded.

"Good," replied Gibbs. "That's means I'm doing it correctly."

"Bastard!" she cursed and immediately regretted it.

If she'd thought he'd been swatting hard before, it was nothing compared to the next ten that landed in rapid succession.

Gasping for air, she barely comprehended the subsequent scolding.

"Those were penalty swats for the disrespect you just displayed. Be thankful I'm not giving them at the end of the spanking when your backside is crimson and aching."

"No!" she cried, trying to wriggle away from him. "I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"You'd better not!" warned Gibbs severely.

Trying to wriggle away from the hand she knew was poised menacingly above her bottom, Jenny tried another attempt to plead for leniency.

As she felt Gibbs tuck her closer with the left hand that held her securely around the waist, she knew her attempts had failed.

"Jen," he began quietly. "I told you earlier you would not enjoy this. A discipline spanking hurts, it's meant to. I am not going to stop until I believe you have received what you need. Now, we are going to see this spanking out and we are nowhere near done."

Jenny inhaled a lungful of air. 'Nowhere near done?' she thought helplessly. Feeling Gibbs shift slightly to position her bottom better, Jenny waited for the spanking to recommence.

Resigned to her fate for the time being, she struggled to deal with each swat as it randomly fell, leaving an accelerating burn in its wake. When Gibbs spanked her for pleasure, there was always a set pattern to where each spank fell, which she enjoyed in its predictability. The set rhythm enabled her to relax into each swat and allow the warm rush of desire to build and intensify. What he was doing now was NOTHING like that. Each swat was hard, deliberate and unyielding and, having no idea where the next swat would fall, she remained in a constant state of tension and pain. In addition, was the increasing awareness she had no idea when this was going to end. A pleasure spanking built deliciously as Gibbs would alternate between spanking and rubbing, his fingers moving further between her legs and increasing her desire. Now, however, the only thing increasing was the searing heat she was sure must be radiating off her backside. She only hoped it was burning his hand.

As the spanking continued without pause, a sudden wave of panic coursed through her brain and Jenny began struggling in earnest. Wriggling desperately to get away from the punishing hand, her legs began kicking the air violently. Feeling her panties slip down her legs, she knew they were suddenly air born but didn't care. Modesty was no longer her main concern. Shielding her bottom from his punishing hand was!

"Stop kicking, young lady," ordered Gibbs, swatting the back of her right thigh sharply.

Jumping from the unexpected smack to her upper thigh, Jenny lifted her legs to deflect any further spanks and brought her hand around to cover her bottom.

Feeling Gibbs take her hand, she was unexpectedly comforted by the way he intertwined their fingers before he lowered her hand to the small of her back, holding it in place. Although she was now unable to protect her throbbing bottom from further assault, the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers filled her with a sense of connection and she felt it was his small way of letting her know he was still right there with her.

"Legs down, Jen," ordered Gibbs quietly.

Ignoring the request, she raised her legs even higher, hoping it might afford her some stalling time before Gibbs started spanking again. She soon realized her mistake when four stinging smacks landed on the back of her thighs.

"I said, legs down!".

"I can't help it," she squealed desperately. "They just fly up when you spank me!"

"In that case, let me help you," offered Gibbs.

Despite the literal meaning of the words, Jenny knew no good could come from his suggestion.

Without further argument, Gibbs swung his right leg over her raised ones, lowering her legs and trapping them between his, preventing any further kicking. With clear access to both cheeks now possible, Gibbs fell back into a methodical rhythm ensuring every inch of Jenny's bottom was well spanked.

No longer able to protect her backside in any way, Jenny slumped helplessly forward, resting her head on Gibbs' leg and allowed the pent up emotions to spill forth as heavy sobs.

Sensing the change in Jenny's body language, Gibbs knew he was finally making an impression. If this had been a stress release spanking, he would have eased off and ended things. But this was discipline and Jenny's full body acceptance of this spanking was an indication that the lesson was just beginning to sink in.

Letting go of her right hand, he tucked his left hand under her hips, raising her bottom higher and allowing greater access to the tender spot where bottom met with thigh. From here, his hand suddenly raised the ante. Being their first true discipline spanking, he wanted this to be one she remembered. He wanted her in no doubt that this was not something to look forward to and, although he was undoubtedly sure it wouldn't be the case, he would be quite happy if this was the last discipline spanking he ever had to administer. He didn't like to feel her struggle from the pain, to hear her pleading sobs, but she had trusted him to take care of matters when she found herself in breach of one of her 'Ds', as she like to put it, and he took that trust very seriously. He particularly wanted to be sure the next time she was tempted behave recklessly and without thought for her own safety, she would remember this spanking. Risking her life was never acceptable in Gibbs' opinion.

The final volley of punishing spanks, delivered mainly to her sit spots and upper thighs, were given without mercy. Jenny's desperate cries that Gibbs change his target location fell on seemingly deaf ears and despite her internal reassurances that Gibbs wouldn't truly hurt her, panic began to set in as the desperate need to fill her lungs with air became more and more difficult.

Just as she'd given up all hope of the spanking ever ending, Gibbs' hand suddenly stilled. Her bottom was throbbing so intensely it took several seconds for her brain to register the spanking had stopped. Gasping for breath, Jenny found herself unable to move. The hand that had only just stopped tearing the skin from her butt was now resting gently on the backs of her legs, rubbing soothingly along the tense muscles of her hamstrings.

"It's all over, Jen," she heard him murmur softly. "It's all over."

Hoping to sneak in a little relief, she reached back to tentatively rub her bottom sure that now the spanking was over, she would be afforded some leeway.

All hopes were dashed, when her hand was caught and held to the small of her back.

"What did I tell you about rubbing, young lady?" The softness that had been there only moments before was replaced with the same sternness she had become accustomed to during the spanking. And, to her horror, three heavy swats landed without mercy on her tender skin.

"Owwww! B-b-but you s-s-said it w-w-was ov-er," she gasped, the wracking sobs preventing her from coherent speech.

"The spanking is over," agreed Gibbs. "But the after effects need to be felt to truly allow the punishment to sink in."

Completely defeated, Jenny let her head fall forward. The hand Gibbs had grasped was gently released and it, too, fell to the floor and rested there.

Content with never having to move again, Jenny concentrated on the feel of Gibbs hands as they massaged the length of her back, from the tightly knotted shoulder muscles to the edge of her bottom. Any hopes she may have had of him including her bottom in the gentle massage fled with his earlier words but, for now, she was grateful for any touch that wasn't swatting. The intensity and pain of the spanking had come as a complete shock to her. Gibbs had warned her it would be unpleasant but, in all honestly, she'd had no idea how unpleasant it could actually be. Never in her life had she been so soundly spanked.

As her sobs slowly abated and her breathing began to even out, she felt Gibbs place his hand on her head and gently stroke through her hair.

"You OK?"

She almost laughed at the concern in his voice. He'd just torn the skin from her backside and now was checking if she was OK.

"Other than never sitting again," she murmured sarcastically, "Yeah, I'm OK!"

Hearing Gibbs let out a small snort of laughter, Jenny found herself smiling as well. Despite the acute burning in her rear end, she was surprised by the overwhelming serenity that effortlessly washed over her, filling her with the same peace and calmness she'd experienced last Friday after the stress release spanking. Not realizing she would feel the same way after such intense discipline, she was pleasantly surprised by the sensation.

Starting to push herself up from Gibbs' lap, she saw him reach down to retrieve her panties from the floor.

"Leave them," she said quickly, not caring to have the material brush against her throbbing skin.

With Gibbs' help, she was soon standing. Nestling herself between his legs, she was overwhelmed by the sudden need to be held and comforted. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into his strong torso, her head resting on his shoulder. Instantly, Gibbs' arms were wrapped around her, his hands stroking along her back.

"That really hurt, Jethro," she said softly.

"I know, love," he replied gently, one hand reaching up to card gently through her hair. "It was meant to."

Relaxing into his embrace, Jenny felt the tears fall silently onto his shoulder.

Then, looking up with eyes full of remorse, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Feeling Gibbs' arms wrap around her, she sensed he was about to draw her down onto his lap. Shifting her weight quickly to ensure only her thighs touch his legs, she was relieved when Gibbs lifted her gently and arranged her so her bottom was well away from any surface. The comforting feel of his strong arms holding her into his chest combined with the aroma of sawdust and wood shavings filled her with security and warmth. As his head rested on hers she heard him murmur, "I know you are."

"Do you forgive me?" she asked her voice small and barely audible.

"Honey, the spanking is not about me forgiving you. There was never any question about my forgiveness. The spanking is given as a deterrent, to hopefully stop you from repeating the same mistakes. It's not a means of forgiveness, unless of course, it's to help you forgive yourself."

Gibbs kissed the top of her head.

"How about we head upstairs. I'll make a start on dinner and you can rest on the sofa."

Jenny smiled remembering how vehemently she'd argued against lying down only ten minutes ago. How much had changed in those ten minutes and it wasn't just her burning bottom she was thinking about. A newfound respect for Gibbs was slowly emerging. Yes, she had respected him before but this was different. This respect came from a deep understanding and acceptance that Gibbs would always keep her accountable should she ask him for help.

Despite her begging and pleading, not once had he wavered from delivering the spanking she knew she had needed to really understand what she had done today was reckless, dangerous and disrespectful. He had approached the spanking with a gentle firmness and he'd been right in knowing exactly when to stop. With previous spanking relationships, she'd never fully trusted anyone with whom she could confide her deepest desires to help her change certain behaviors. She knew she both wanted and needed someone who would take on-board her needs and ensure she was consistently kept accountable for her actions. Her fear was having someone who tired of her willful testing, who suddenly changed the rules or, worst of all, someone who was inconsistent in their dealing of her behavior.

It was a huge leap of faith. But Jenny felt she was finally ready to trust. And Gibbs was just the man with whom her trust would be rewarded.


	13. Chapter 13

**Once again, many, many thanks for the reviews. I really appreciate those of you who take the time to let me know you are reading and enjoying this fic. While I understand the need for some of you to remain anonymous when reviewing, it makes it difficult to thank you personally so please accept this generic 'thanks' with the sincerity it is meant.**

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Chapter 13

With her eyes closed, Jenny listened to the familiar sounds of Gibbs moving about the kitchen. The delicious aroma of frying steak only added to the comforting ambiance and she soon felt herself drifting off to sleep. A gentle hand on her back brought her back to wakefulness and she opened to eyes to see Gibbs crouched next to her, his face only inches away. Kissing her tenderly, he ran his hand over the top of her head stopping only when his fingers met with the elastic band that held her hair in place. Pulling it free, he gently shook out the pony tail and combed out the few, small tangles with his fingers. The sensation was so relaxing Jenny, once again, closed her eyes and melted into the sofa.

When he suddenly pulled away, Jenny squinted one eye open to see why he'd stopped. Kneeling back on his haunches, she watched as Gibbs picked up a small bottle and flipped open the lid.

"What's that?" she asked frowning.

"Lotion," he replied, turning the bottle upside down and squeezing out a generous amount. "Roll onto your tummy for me."

"Why?"

He levelled her with a look of exasperation.

"Must you question everything I ask?" he sighed. When her only answer was to raise one eyebrow, he continued. "I'm going to rub this lotion on your bottom. A spanking that hard will only dry out and chafe the skin. This will help to protect it."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you," she quipped sarcastically.

"Hey, I can just as easily forget about it," he replied, his no-nonsense attitude quickly returning as he made to stand up.

"I'm sorry," said Jenny quickly, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "The lotion sounds really nice. Thank you." The last was added as he returned to his knees and placed his left hand on the small of her back.

Adjusting herself until she was fully on her stomach, Jenny turned her head and watched as Gibbs reached out with his right hand. A sudden coldness hit her right bottom cheek and she jumped with the sensation. As his soothing fingers began massaging the lotion into her tender and throbbing skin, Jenny sighed contentedly.

"Not that I'm complaining," she began cautiously, "But I thought you said there would be no rubbing."

"No rubbing by you," clarified Gibbs. "Besides, it's been nearly thirty minutes since your spanking, I'm prepared to cut you some slack."

She snorted into the cushion she was using for a pillow but refrained from retorting with another smart-ass remark, enjoying the incredible ministrations of his fingers on her bottom. Without conscious thought, her hips lifted off the sofa to meet his hands in the hopes he might begin stroking her more intimately. Her action only resulted in an unexpected sting as his hand smacked down on her left cheek.

"Hey!" she yelped indignantly.

Gibbs gave a short laugh. "It seems your naughty bottom was expecting a little more attention than it deserves at this point in time," Gibbs murmured into her ear. "I was just putting it back in its place."

"Oh, come on Jethro, wouldn't you rather be stroking a little lower? I'll make it worth your while." She reached out and placed her hand over the front of his pants.

"Brat!" he scolded playfully responding with another, slightly harder smack to her bottom. With the lotion now rubbed in and glistening hotly, an increase in the stinging sensation had Jenny yelping even louder. "Would you rather I take a seat and turn you back over my knee, young lady."

Jenny sighed dramatically. "No, I guess not," she conceded.

Smirking at her attempts to distract him, Gibbs squeezed out another blob of lotion and applied it to her reddened sit spots and tops of her thighs. He didn't need her raising her bottom and exposing her sex to arouse him, her soft moans of pleasure were distracting enough.

When the lotion was thoroughly absorbed, Gibbs rocked back on his ankles and made to stand.

"OK," he announced suddenly, reaching down and patting her bottom gently. "Time for dinner."

Reluctantly, Jenny slid of the sofa and allowed Gibbs to help her stand. As she looked around the floor, she smiled when Gibbs dangled something in front of her face.

"Looking for these?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Thank you," she replied, rolling her eyes and snatching the pair of lace panties from his hand.

Putting them on, Jenny was relieved to find the fabric didn't add any further discomfort. Her joy was short lived however, when Gibbs directed her to the dining table and her eyes spotted the unforgiving wooden chairs.

"Can I bring the cushion?" she asked, turning to retrieve the object from the sofa.

"Nope," replied Gibbs shaking his head. "Sitting on a sore bottom will help to reinforce the lesson," he added callously.

"But you allowed the lotion," she argued, her voice rising at least one octave in her frustration.

"The lotion is to stop your skin drying out and chafing. It's not there as a means of comfort. The fact that it helps reduce the throbbing is, shall we say, a bonus."

"Hmph," huffed Jenny crossing her arms

"You're pushing it tonight, little lady," said Gibbs sternly, turning Jenny until she was standing directly in front of him. "The only reason I'm letting you get away with this current display of attitude is because this is the first time we've found ourselves here. If you choose to continue with the huffing and puffing, not to mention the arguing and whining, I will not hesitate to use one of these chairs as a means by which to put you over my knee again. Now, what's it to be Missy?"

The tone of his scolding, the threat of another spanking and the terms he used to address her, had Jenny squirming from both pleasure and remorse. He was right. She was pushing him despite her inner voice of reason screaming at her to just sit down and shut up. She certainly didn't want another spanking. She honestly didn't think her bottom could survive a second round yet, here she was, goading him into doing exactly that.

Lifting her head, she found herself swimming in the blueness of the eyes that surveyed her carefully.

"I know what you're doing, Jen," he said softly, cupping her face with his hands. "And trust me, I will carry through every time you want to test me."

Her face blushed with heat as she realised he knew her better than she knew herself.

"This little act of defiance will not push me away," he continued earnestly. "I'm here for the long haul. All you'll succeed in doing is earning yourself an even sorer bottom. And, I'm not adverse to marching into the kitchen and taking a wooden spoon out of the drawer. Do you really want to keep testing me?"

Her face blanched.

"You….you wouldn't…would you….really?" she stammered.

"Oh, believe me, I would," he replied firmly. "No point in me wearing out my hand if your stubborn ass isn't willing to do as it's told."

As she lowered her head, she felt Gibbs' hand hold her under the chin.

"So, what's it to be? Are you going to take a seat so we can enjoy dinner or, do I fetch the wooden spoon and we commence round two?"

Jenny swallowed hard and cleared her throat. "Dinner," she said softly.

"Good decision," replied Gibbs leading her to the table.

When dinner was finally concluded, Jenny was more than relieved to find comfort in the softness of the sofa once again. Nestling into Gibbs' side, she stared, unfocused, at the television which hummed quietly as an old movie played out on the screen.

"Jethro?"

"Hmmm?" murmured Gibbs.

His arm around her shoulder twitched slightly as he spoke.

"You were right earlier," she admitted softly.

"I know," he replied obnoxiously. Placing a tender kiss on the top of her head, he added, "What was I right about?"

Shaking her head and laughing, Jenny playfully swatted his chest.

"When you said I was pushing things," she continued, tucking her legs to side and laying her head in his lap. "you were right. That's exactly what I was doing."

"Why?"

Jenny shrugged. "I don't know," she finally replied.

"Yeah, you do," said Gibbs annoyingly. "Think about it."

Sighing, Jenny rolled onto her back. With her head still resting on his thighs, she looked up at him. "I'm afraid you'll give up on me," she finally admitted ashamed by her own level of vulnerability.

"Why would I do that?" asked Gibbs.

"Because, well….because I can be a moody bitch."

Gibbs suddenly laughed and Jenny frowned indignantly.

"What?" she blurted angrily.

"And you don't think I can be a stubborn bastard?" he asked rhetorically. "Come on, Jen, we all have our faults. I'd be a pretty shallow S.O.B. if, at the first sign of you pushing boundaries, I high tailed it out of here." He reached down and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "As I said before, I'm in this for the long haul. I don't commit easily but, once I do, I'm like a dog with bone. You'll have to shoot me if you want rid of me."

Jenny laughed. "I'll have to remember that," she said.

Sobering again, she continued, "Do you remember when I said there may be some things I'd like you to help me with, as in, personal goals and such?"

"Hmmm," acknowledged Gibbs.

"Well, would you be willing to do that?"

"You mean, keep you accountable for something other than the three Ds?" he asked.

"Yes."

Reaching down, Gibbs placed his hands under Jenny's shoulders and gently lifted her into a sitting position. "Come here," he said softly, patting his lap.

Lifting one leg over his knees, Jenny manoeuvred herself until she straddled his lap, her knees bent. Gingerly lowering her bottom onto his thighs, she melted into his embrace.

"Nothing would make me happier," said Gibbs replying to her earlier question. "If there's something you want help with I am here for you. But, you need to understand, once we commit to an issue, I will make sure you stay accountable every single time. There'll be no changing the rules part way through."

Jenny nodded. Her heart was suddenly fluttering. Did she really want this? She knew, if nothing else, Gibbs was true to his word. There was a certain freedom in not sharing her personal goals with him. It meant she could stay unaccountable for just a while longer, not have to answer to anyone other than herself. But, that also meant she remained trapped in her own shortcomings. Nothing changed. As strong willed and self-disciplined as Jenny was, she knew, deep down, there were areas in her life where she needed the security of knowing someone else was willing to share the lead. Someone who would step up when she no longer had the strength to do so for herself. Someone whose actions said, "I care about you, even when you no longer care for yourself."

The problem was, the security this shared accountability brought was contrasted with the loss of misguided freedoms. And, while misguided they may be, life with them was easier and definitely more comfortable, particularly where her bottom was concerned. However, easier didn't mean happier and Jenny knew only too well the acrid taste of self-loathing when she would, yet again, let herself down.

Summing up all her courage, Jenny pushed away the last remnants of self-doubt.

"So, what is it you want help with?" asked Gibbs.

"This isn't easy for me to do, Jethro," began Jenny. "I don't want to confuse submission with weakness."

"Jen," said Gibbs firmly, "To truly submit to another person through your own free will, takes extraordinary strength and trust. There is nothing weak about it. It's actually empowering. When you allow me the privilege of helping you meet a personal goal, you are displaying incredible strength of will."

Leaning into him, Jenny kissed him fully on the lips.

"What was that for?" asked Gibbs in surprise.

"For understanding…for knowing exactly what to say," she replied. "As I said, it isn't easy for me to do this. But, I know I will be happier for trusting you with it."

She bent her head and began picking at her fingernails. Reaching out, Gibbs took her hands in his, effectively stilling their destructive attack.

"Just tell me, Jen," he said encouragingly.

Jenny took a deep, fortifying breath.

"The thing is," she began. "I don't really handle stress very well. I place high expectations on myself and, when I don't live up to those expectations, I tend to take it out on other people. I get angry, moody, nasty, and…well….basically a complete bitch."

The corners of Gibbs' mouth twitched and a knowing glint flashed in his eyes.

Jenny blushed. "Yes, I know, you've been on the receiving end of that."

"Mmmm," agreed Gibbs. "Just a couple of times."

"Well, that's what I'd like you to help me with. I need to find ways to deal with my stress before it gets to that stage."

"Have you thought about what you can do?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes," replied Jenny.

When she didn't elaborate, Gibbs raised both eyebrows and fixed her with his gaze. "Aaand?" he queried, stretching out the word.

"If I tell you, it kind of makes it final," she admitted.

"Well, yeah," replied Gibbs. "I thought that was the whole point."

"Don't tease me, Jethro," she admonished. "This is hard enough."

"Sorry, Love." His tone was contrite and Jenny knew his teasing hadn't been malicious.

"The thing is," continued Gibbs. "I can think of many ways to help with stress but, if they come from you, you're more likely to use them. You know what works best for you."

"I know," replied Jenny. "It's just doing them that's hard."

"What if we just start with one or two strategies?" suggested Gibbs. "Then it's not so daunting. Each week we can add another until we have a plan of action in place."

Jenny nodded. "That sounds reasonable," she agreed. "I think I can do that."

"Good," replied Gibbs. "So, give me one thing you can do to help you cope with stress."

Jenny thought for a second. If she were truly honest with herself, she was determining what would be the easiest to stick by. Once the strategy was spoken out loud, she was in no doubt Gibbs would make sure she didn't waver. An inward battle of 'Do I/don't I' played through her mind.

"I need to get more sleep," she said in a rush, hoping to say it quickly might make it easier.

Gibbs smiled. She reminded him of summers spent at the local swimming hole. Gathering the courage to leap off the rocks into the icy water below.

"How many hours are you getting now," he asked.

She grimaced slightly before answering. "Um...at the moment, I'm lucky if I average about four hours a night."

Gibbs' eyes widened. "Four hours?" he spluttered. "You can't do your job properly on only four hours sleep, Jen. Especially when you're just starting out!"

"I know, Jethro," Jenny snapped. "Didn't I just admit to that!"

Gibbs leveled her with a stern glare. "Watch the tone," he warned quietly.

Jenny blushed at the rebuke but didn't argue further.

"OK," continued Gibbs. "The best way to make sure you get enough sleep is to enforce a bed time."

Jenny's shoulders sank. She knew this was going to be the inevitable solution but it certainly didn't make it any easier to accept.

"What time do you normally get up on a work morning?" he asked.

"Around six."

"Then, in order to get at least seven hours of sleep, you'll need to be in bed by ten thirty," concluded Gibbs.

"But, being in bed by ten thirty doesn't guarantee I'll actually sleep," argued Jenny.

"You will if we think of ways to help you relax," suggested Gibbs. "You just need your body to get used to a new routine."

Jenny threw up her hands in frustration.

"How can I do that?" she asked.

"Well, how do you feel about staying here for a couple of weeks?" asked Gibbs. "I could help you maintain the new bedtime as well as implementing ways to relax your mind."

Jenny grinned mischievously. "Sex is relaxing," she offered hopefully.

"No arguments here," replied Gibbs, smirking at her.

"The bedtime would only be on work nights, right?" she asked. "I don't think it would work to have it apply to every night of the week."

"Only work nights," concurred Gibbs. "Although, I think for the first few weeks, at least, it would be good to try and stick as close to ten thirty each night as possible. It's hard enough retraining your body clock without sending it haywire two nights of the week just because you can."

Jenny nodded.

"And," she added, "it doesn't apply if a case keeps me up late." A mischievous grin crossed her face. "You see, I have this tyrant of a boss who insists I work late some nights. Has no idea of boundaries. He just…..augh!"

A sudden squeal escaped her lips as Gibbs reached out and pushed her head down into the sofa effectively resulting in her bottom sticking precariously in the air and vulnerable to his very large hand.

"You were saying?" he asked, resting his hand on the fullness of her cheeks which were barely covered by the scrap of lace she wore.

"Um… did I say tyrant?" she said hastily, her voice muffled by the cushions. "I meant supportive, understanding and, most definitely, considerate."

"Much better," replied Gibbs, smacking her bottom playfully before pulling her back into an upright position.

"Of course it won't include nights where we have to work late," he added seriously. "The whole point of this is not to find ways to punish you, it's to help you improve your quality of life. As much as I love spanking you, Jen, I don't like punishing you. The two are very different, as I'm sure you found out tonight."

She squirmed slightly and dipped her head. "I know, Jethro. It's just, this is all new to us and I want to make sure we're both on the same page."

"Honey, our page is matching perfectly," replied Gibbs, leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on her nose. "I'm here to help you, not hurt you. I hated having to discipline you tonight. I'd much rather be giving you a good girl spanking. But you've trusted me to take charge when you fall short of your own goals and I plan to ensure your trust in me is not wasted."

Jenny laughed. "Do you have to be so thorough?"

"Yep!" replied Gibbs. "No point in half measures."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. "Thank you," she whispered.

Listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart, Jenny snuggled against him and relaxed as his fingers gently scratched along her back. Feeling safer than she had in a very long time, she released a soft sigh of contentment.

"Seems like you'll be lucky to make it to ten o'clock tonight," said Gibbs softly.

"Mmmm," she murmured. "And it's not even a work night."

Shifting slightly, she allowed her hand to surreptitiously stray to the zipper of Gibbs' pants.

"I still think we should try out one of our strategies for relaxing the body," she said seductively.

"Oh," replied Gibbs innocently. "And er…what strategy might that be?"

As her hand reached inside the open fly and freed his growing hardness, Gibbs sucked in a mouthful of air.

"Ahh," he moaned thickly, making short work of lifting her bottom and sliding the lace panties down her thighs. "Looks like we're still on the same page, my Love."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"So, what possessed you to build a boat in your basement?"

Walking around the framework, Jenny ran her hands over the ribs of the hull.

"Careful," warned Gibbs. "I haven't sanded that side yet."

In the short silence that followed, Gibbs considered Jenny's question.

"I dunno," he eventually replied. "Gives me something to do while I drink Bourbon, I guess."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "I'm serious Jethro. It's not something most people do. I just wondered where the idea came from."

"I like working with wood. I like boats. I guess I just put the two together."

Realizing she wasn't going to get a deep and meaningful answer from him, Jenny let the subject drop. Working her way around the construction, she continued rubbing her fingers along the wooden ribs.

"Ouch!" Crying out in pain, Jenny drew back her finger as if the wood had been on fire. Looking down at the injured tip, she inwardly cringed when she saw the small slither of wood protruding from the fleshy skin.

Putting down the sanding block, Gibbs held out his hand.

"Show me," he said simply. "I told you I hadn't sanded that side yet."

Gingerly stretching out her arm, Jenny allowed Gibbs to take her hand in his. With a suspicious eye, she watched as he carefully inspected the injured finger.

"Yep, it's a splinter," he deduced.

"Really," she replied sardonically. "And here I was thinking it was a snake bite."

Gibbs eyed her sternly. "You want me to help you or not?"

"Depends," replied Jenny. "Will it hurt?"

"Probably."

His matter-of-fact response made Jenny smile. As she opened her mouth to reply, he quickly took her finger and with his other hand, pinched sharply and pulled. Before she even had chance to register the movement, he had placed her finger to his mouth and was kissing it gently.

"All better," he said tenderly making Jenny feel about six years old. "Maybe now you'll listen when I tell you to be careful."

Poking out her tongue playfully, Jenny inspected her finger. She was disappointed there was very little blood. Surely there could have been a least some gore for her discomfort.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and help me sand?' suggested Gibbs, holding out another sanding block.

She took the proffered item, maneuvering herself between Gibbs and the boat. With her back against his chest, Jenny succumbed to the feeling of oneness as he placed his left hand around her while his right continued sanding, now in complete unison to her own attempts.

Suddenly reminded of Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore, Jenny couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips.

"What?" asked Gibbs, leaning round to look at her.

"Nothing," she replied. "Just wondering how we'd fair with a pottery wheel."

The look of absolute bewilderment that crossed Gibbs' face told Jenny he had obviously never seen 'Ghost' before.

"We really have to get you out of your basement more, Jethro," she said returning to the task of sanding.

They continued working in silence, each to their own thoughts as their arms continued moving in unison. The weekend was passing all too quickly and Sunday night suddenly loomed before them.

Jenny sighed. "Why do the weekends always pass so quickly. I'm quite convinced Monday and Tuesday have far more hours in them than Saturday and Sunday."

Working as she talked, her hand began to stray sideways as it sanded. Taking her hand Gibbs repositioned it so she was, once again, sanding with the grain.

"Why is it so important to sand with the grain?" asked Jenny, enjoying the feel of Gibbs' hand on top of hers.

"Sanding against the grain tears the wood fibers," explained Gibbs. "Going with the grain gives a neater finish, especially when staining the wood."

Nodding her head in acknowledgment, Jenny fell into a contented silence as her hand moved gently over the wood. Relaxing into her task, she subconsciously drifted backwards into Gibbs' arms. When her arm began to slow and her movements were barely noticeable, she felt Gibbs whisper against her ear.

"I think someone needs to go to bed."

Turning her head to the side, she met Gibbs' lips with her own, her left hand stretching up to reach around his neck to pull him closer.

"I think you might be right," she replied drowsily.

Turning to face him, Jenny absent mindlessly let the sanding block slip from her hand. A loud clattering sound shattered the peaceful silence and Jenny jumped in response.

"Oops," she muttered, grinning sheepishly. "You definitely might be right," she amended softly, returning her full attention to his lips.

Pulling away gently, Gibbs stepped back allowing Jenny space to extricate herself from the wooden structure blocking her exit.

"You coming?" she asked when she felt his resistance in following her.

"Later," he replied.

Seeing the slight pout forming on her lips, he added, "I won't be long."

"I might just curl up on the sofa over there until you're ready," she suggested turning towards the old, beaten piece of furniture Gibbs had added a few days ago."

"No," replied Gibbs firmly, returning her attention forward. Walking behind her, he surreptitiously led her towards the staircase until she was standing at the foot of the first step.

"But it's no fun without you," whined Jenny.

"Jen." Gibbs voice held an all too familiar note of warning.

Replying with a defeated sigh, Jenny gave him a final peck on the lips before trudging her way upstairs. Gibbs smiled as he watched her retreating ass sway its way up each step. God she was beautiful, he thought to himself.

Since sharing her goal to improve her sleeping habits a little over a week ago, Gibbs has been impressed with her diligence in sticking to the 10.30 curfew. He correctly surmised his presence had a lot to do with it and, for the most part, he had encouraged her by heading off to bed at the same time. Although, initially, Jenny had struggled to fall asleep at such an early hour, they had happily engaged in variety of means to help relax the body. Recalling the picture of Jenny's ass upturned over his knee as he spanked and stroked her to orgasm before plunging himself into her bringing them both to climatic bliss, almost saw Gibbs changing his mind about following her upstairs. But he resisted, much to the dismay of his throbbing hardness. Forcing himself to think of other, less exciting things such as the pile of paper work that awaited him tomorrow, Gibbs reluctantly returned to the boat and quickly downed the last of bourbon he'd earlier poured into the mason jar.

Slowly standing upright as his back finally persuaded him to pack it in for the night, Gibbs checked his watch; 11.45. Carelessly placing the sanding block on the workbench, Gibbs flicked off the lamp and headed wearily towards stairs. As he reached the top, he pulled the extension cord from the wall, plunging the basement into darkness, and stepped up into the kitchen. Knowing Jenny would be fast asleep, he quietly checked the house for the night, before finally ascending the stairs, avoiding the three that creaked when treaded upon. He had almost reached the top when he noticed a faint light coming from the bedroom. Giving Jenny the benefit of the doubt, he wondered if she had awoken to use the bathroom but, when the light suddenly diminished at the sound of his footfall on the wooden floor and the tell-tale sound of a book landing on the bedside table reached his trained ears, his suspicions were well and truly aroused.

Stepping into the bedroom, he wasn't surprised to see Jenny curled up under the covers, feigning sleep. She was, he had to admit, pretty convincing. Deciding he would play to her little deception, Gibbs headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Emerging a few minutes later, he stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed. Noting Jenny hadn't moved a muscle, he kissed her gently on the cheek before nuzzling into her neck. He knew she would have to react in some way and he wasn't disappointed when she softly sighed and stretched lazily, a perfect imitation of one just waking from a deep slumber.

"Sorry," he murmured softly. "Didn't mean to wake you."

When she didn't say anything, he continued baiting her. "Did you manage to fall asleep without me?"

She hesitated slightly before answering, muffling her reluctant 'yes' as she buried her head in his chest.

Gibbs suddenly stiffened. He had expected her to confess or, maybe refuse to answer. What he hadn't expected was for her to blatantly lie to him. Although surprised and disappointed, he chose to give her one more chance to come clean.

"That's good," he replied softly, wrapping his arms around her back. "Have you been asleep all this time?"

Again, her response was delayed but a hesitant "hmm mmm," eventually fell from her lips.

Without hesitation, Gibbs sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Squinting at the sudden light, Jenny gazed at him apprehensively.

"I'm surprised you've got any need to squint," Gibbs accused sternly. "Considering you've only just turned off your own bedside lamp about five minutes ago."

Noting she at least had the decency to blush at his words, Gibbs watched as Jenny pulled herself into a sitting position and began nervously picking at her finger nails.

"Why did you lie to me?" asked Gibbs calmly.

Seeing she wasn't going to answer him anytime soon, Gibbs sighed. Reaching forward, he lifted her chin and gazed expectantly at her, his eyebrows raised in anticipation of an answer.

"Jen?" he prompted.

Eventually she shrugged and pulled out of his grasp.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied defiantly. "So I decided I would read for a bit."

Gibbs almost smiled at the challenging tone she used. She knew she was caught, yet still displayed enough attitude to imply he held some blame for her wrong doing.

"I didn't ask why your light was on, I asked why you lied to me," clarified Gibbs.

"I knew you'd be pissed if you saw I was still up," replied Jenny nonchalantly.

"And?" prompted Gibbs.

"And what?" Jenny looked at him with a bemused expression.

Gibbs let out a frustrated sigh.

"And what would it mean if I discovered you were still up at…," he quickly checked the bedside clock, "eleven fifty-seven?"

He watched as Jenny disrespectfully rolled her eyes and resisted the temptation to pull her across his knee right then, saying instead, "Roll your eyes at me one more time and you'll find yourself over my knee so fast your head will spin!"

Chewing the inside of her lip, Jenny returned to picking at her defenseless nails.

"What would it mean if I discovered you were still up?" repeated Gibbs, his voice now stern and demanding an answer.

"I'd get a spanking," mumbled Jenny.

"Exactly," replied Gibbs. "So, I'll ask again, why did you lie to me?"

He saw realization dawn in her eyes as it finally clicked as to what he was alluding to. Seeing her face turn beet red, he refused to let her off the hook. He needed her to say it out loud.

"Now, Jen," he suddenly barked, shocking her into speech.

"I was…trying to avoid the spanking," she replied, her voice almost a whisper.

"So, in other words," continued Gibbs, forcing her to truly admit her intention. "You were trying to….?"

He waited for an answer. When one didn't come, he suddenly pulled her forward, facedown over his lap, and quickly administered three sharp swats to her bottom. As had become her habit of late, she was wearing one of his old tees as a nightshirt so her bottom was somewhat protected by the soft material. However, as he sat her up again, he wasn't surprised to see the creased brow indicating a lingering sting.

Without giving her any time to register what had just happened, Gibbs said sternly, "You were trying to…?"

As a hint of anger crossed her face, Jenny finally answered, "Deceive you."

"Exactly!" barked Gibbs. "And that, young lady, will never be acceptable in my book."

Jenny cringed at his words as she silently berated herself. What had she been thinking to assume she would get away with tricking him. She much preferred the word 'tricking'. It didn't sound quite so…deliberate as deceiving. As much as she would have liked to convince herself her choice to read had been because she couldn't sleep, she knew her main motive had been to see if she could get away with doing something she knew she wasn't supposed to. Be a little sneaky to show she was capable of doing what _she_ wanted. Trouble was, she couldn't really say why and, in all honesty, she had struggled to stay awake while she waited to hear him climb the stairs relying on the tell-tale sound of his foot on at least one of the stairs that creaked. Trust Gibbs to be considerate and avoid those particular treads.

She wasn't surprised when she felt herself pulled, once again, face down over his lap. Nor was she surprised when his hands tugged at the hem of the t-shirt and pulled it up over her bottom. She rarely wore panties to bed and tonight was no exception. Feeling his warm hand as it rested on her quivering bottom, Jenny waited for the lecture that would pre-empt the spanking.

"We're going to, firstly, deal with you reading when you should have been sleeping," began Gibbs grimly. Jenny shuddered slightly as she felt his hand subconsciously move over her firm globes, occasionally pinching the skin between his thumb and forefinger.

"If you can't sleep," continued Gibbs. "What should you do?"

When Jenny shrugged she knew a hard smack would follow her action. Gibbs hated shrugging, especially when he knew she knew the answer.

Jumping at the sudden sting of hand meeting bare flesh, Jenny squeaked, "I come and see you first."

"So why didn't you?"

"I don't know," replied Jenny quickly, wanting to avoid another penalty swat for not answering. "I guess I couldn't be bothered going downstairs again and I thought if I read for a bit I would feel tired."

"And you know that's an acceptable strategy to use. Our agreement being, you explain to me your intention, so I can check on the time and ensure you don't read too long."

Jenny slumped forward as Gibbs spoke. She knew all what he said was correct. She knew because she had suggested most of it when they were coming up with strategies. She also knew there was very little, if anything, she could say in her defense. Sensing Gibbs had come to the same conclusion, Jenny shut her eyes tightly as she awaited the first swat of many.

She wasn't disappointed. As his left hand snaked around her waist, drawing her close, his right hand slapped down on her upturned bottom. Wincing at the loud crack that echoed through the silence of the night, she barely had time to register the sting before the second, third and fourth swat fell in rapid succession.

Gibbs didn't scold as he spanked her. There was no need. She knew what she had done and she knew the consequences. It was easy then, to lose count of the number of times his hand fell on her tender skin. With the sting now reaching fiery proportions, Jenny allowed herself the luxury of yelping with each descent. From experience, she knew they had only just reached the middle section of the spanking. This would last until she felt she could take no more. It would be then, that Gibbs would tip her forward and begin attacking her thighs and tender sit spot as well as continuing his assault on her crimson bottom.

Oh crap, thought Jenny, as a particularly hard swat landed on her right cheek, they were nowhere near done.

It was with shock then, when she suddenly realised Gibbs had stopped spanking. A brief state of relief was quickly replaced with burdening dread as she remembered his early words; "We're going to firstly deal with your reading when you should have been sleeping."

Firstly. That meant there was worst to follow. Jenny shuddered as she lay across Gibbs' lap. The vulnerability of the position never more obvious to her than when she was being thoroughly spanked.

She was suddenly struck with the enormity of what she had done. Lying was never OK in Gibbs' book. And lying to get out of a punishment was, without double, a sure-fire way to ensure she'd not sit for some time.

"Time to deal with the deception," said Gibbs sternly,

Unable to stop herself, Jenny shivered in anticipation of what was to follow.

"Lying will never be acceptable," scolded Gibbs. "And, when you lie to deliberately deceive me, you destroy some of the trust I have in you."

Despite having been thoroughly spanked, Jenny's eyes had remained dry. That was, until now. Gibbs' words stung with more force than any blow. Trust was something they both valued highly and to think she may have jeopardized that bond, hurt Jenny deeply. Her eyes quickly filled with tears that spilled over her cheeks. Tears of remorse, guilt and disappointment in her own actions.

"It is never OK to lie to me, Jen," continued Gibbs, his words penetrating her very soul. "If you've done something that we have both agreed needs discipline, you admit it and accept the consequences. Lying to get out of a punishment will only result in something much worse."

Jenny sobbed, wondering if anything could be worse than how she was feeling right now.

"I'm so….s-sorry," she stammered, burying her head into the bed covers.

"Come here."

His words surprised her and she turned to look into his eyes. Through the cloudiness of tears, Jenny saw Gibbs hold out his hand, encouraging her to sit up and nestle into his arms. Fearing he might change his mind, she scrambled upwards and crawled onto his lap, burrowing her head into his chest as she continued to sob.

Gibbs gently rubbed her back and stroked her head, combing his fingers through her hair and brushing aside stray strands that stuck to the wetness on her face.

"I'm so s-sorry," she said again. "I didn't think ab-bout w-what I was d-doing. I was j-just being de-defiant and seeing if I c-could get away with it." Her words were broken through the hitches of her sobs.

"I know," whispered Gibbs as he gently kissed her head. "But it was still a deception and that will always result in a punishment."

Jenny nodded her head. She knew she had done wrong and, if anything, the punishment would almost be a welcome relief. The guilt she felt in knowing she had hurt Gibbs by her actions was almost unbearable.

Feeling a sudden coldness as Gibbs' left hand was removed from where it had been resting on her head, Jenny watched as it stretched out and gently opened the drawer in the bedside table. Frowning as Gibbs felt around in the drawer, Jenny wondered what he was doing, only to have her eyes widen in shock as his hand slowly drew out a large wooden hairbrush.

Pulling away from his grasp, Jenny scrambled off his lap and sat back on her haunches eyeing the lethal implement with horror.

"J-J-Jethro!" Her voice stammered again but this time the impediment was triggered by fear rather than sobbing.

Seeing her face suddenly pale, Gibbs quickly divested his hand of the hairbrush by placing it on the bedside table. Reaching out, he took both of Jenny's hands in his.

"Jen, it's OK," he said softly trying to calm her down. "I will never do anything to you that we haven't agreed upon first."

Somewhat placated by his words, Jenny felt her heart begin to slow to a normal rhythm again.

"The thing is," continued Gibbs. "Lying and deliberate deception call for a fairly harsh punishment. Now, we haven't really discussed the use of implements and I'm completely fine if you choose not to go down that road. However, for what it's worth, I believe you deserve more than just my hand on your backside. Now, you know me, Jen. I would never push any punishment further than your limitations nor would I ever beat you. Yes, an implement adds a different perspective. It produces a different kind of sting to enforce future consideration before repeating the act but it is, and will always be, a spanking; never a beating."

Despite her desire for self-preservation, Jenny found herself inwardly accepting Gibbs' words. He was right. This did call for a harsher punishment. Whether she was willing to openly agree to the use of implements however was still another matter.

Eyeing the hairbrush suspiciously, Jenny suddenly wondered why Gibbs had such an implement. Had he used it before? Had it belonged to a past girlfriend? Unable to stand it any longer, she decided she had to know.

"Um…why do you have _that_?" she asked, putting particular disdain on the word 'that'. "I can't imagine you'd use it for yourself."

Gibbs chuckled. Reaching out, he picked up the hairbrush and turned it over a couple of times before handing it to Jenny. As she took hold of the proffered object, she was surprised by its heaviness. This wasn't some cheap imitation. This hairbrush was the real deal. Rectangle in shape, the wood holding the bristles was thick and solid. The handle was sturdy and Jenny noted the brush had been molded in one piece.

As she continued inspecting the craftsmanship, Gibbs spoke. "I found it the other day in a department store. I'd been looking for a new comb and came across this. I thought it might….come in handy sometime."

Jenny looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, did you?" she said sardonically.

Holding the brush in her right hand, she smacked it softly against her left hand.

"It's pretty solid," she said dryly. "It'd definitely hurt."

"Yes, it would," agreed Gibbs. "That's kind of the point. It's not something that would be used all the time. As I said before, lying deserves something a little harsher than my hard."

"This is more than a 'little' harsher," said Jenny.

"Do you think what you did deserves something like this?" asked Gibbs, tapping the brush with the tip of his finger.

Jenny shrugged.

"Maybe," she said softly. "I… I just wasn't expecting it."

Gibbs nodded.

"And I wasn't expecting you to ever deliberately lie to me, especially to avoid a punishment."

Ouch! That had stung and Jenny cringed as his words sunk in.

Taking the brush from her, Gibbs held it out as he spoke. "What I'm suggesting is this. We continue the spanking with my hand and, I won't lie to you, I intend to make sure you don't ever lie to me again."

Jenny stomach plummeted and the previous sting in her bottom was suddenly reawakened.

"I will then finish the spanking with six hard swats of this hairbrush. No more, no less. That way you know exactly what to expect and when it will be over."

Holding her gaze sternly, Gibbs continued. "You don't have to agree with this, Jen. If you say no, I will absolutely respect your decision and I'll just use my hand. You are in control here."

"But you'll think less of me if I don't agree to it?" replied Jenny, unable to hide the resentfulness in her voice.

Gibbs pulled back in surprise. "No!" he answered emphatically. "I would never think less of you. I know my hand can do a very thorough job on its own. The concept of the hairbrush is not to necessarily cause more pain. That's why I'm suggesting only six swats. I'm quite sure twenty swats with my hand would have the same effect. The idea of using the brush is more of a psychological impact. Knowing your actions have called for something other than my hand will hopefully reinforce the seriousness of your actions. It's breaking away from the intimacy of skin to skin contact and putting a little distance there to drive home the message. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Jenny nodded. She mulled over what he'd just said. It made sense and, his use of the brush did drive home the seriousness of her actions. Six swats. She was sure she could handle that. Yes, it would come on top of a thoroughly spanked bottom, but knowing the spanking had a predetermined ending meant she would be able to bear the six swats.

Taking a deep breath, Jenny looked first at the wooden implement then back to Gibbs' face. Holding him in a steady gaze, she slowly nodded her consent.

"Are you sure?" asked Gibbs. "Once you agree, there can be no changing of your mind once the spanking begins. You know that's how it works."

"I'm sure," she whispered. "I trust you." Suddenly realizing the enormity of those three words, Jenny felt her heart break a little.

As her eyes filled with tears once again, her voice hitched as she tried to speak. "I… I took your trust in me for…for granted. I belittled our relationship by thinking I…I could….get one over on you. It was stupid and….and I'm s-s-so sorry."

Dissolving into sobs, Jenny fell into Gibbs' embrace and cried deeply as Gibbs gently returned to rubbing her back and carding through her hair. When her tears finally subsided and she'd managed to blow her nose and wipe her eyes, Jenny allowed herself to be placed across Gibbs' lap again knowing exactly what was to come.

Feeling the t-shirt lifted once again, Jenny closed her eyes in anticipation for the spanking to begin. As Gibbs' hand fell randomly across her bottom and thighs, she felt the fire ignite. What began as individual sparks easily identified, soon turned to a raging burn that spread rapidly over her inflamed cheeks and upper thighs. Jenny felt again the rising panic that his hand would never stop. Before long, having attempted to block his target, her hand was held in the small of her back as Gibbs continued to pepper her bottom with hard stinging smacks.

Crying out in pain and begging him to stop, Jenny felt Gibbs up the ante. It was something they both knew was the key to a discipline spanking but it never made it easier. The moment at which Jenny felt she couldn't take anymore, was the exact moment the spanking really began. It was only then did each spank tear at her resistance and fully drive home the enormity of what she had done to deserve the punishment. It was also the point at which Gibbs would truly begin scolding her.

"It will never be acceptable for you to lie to me," scolded Gibbs, punctuating select words with a stinging swat. "I hope I don't ever have to repeat this lesson again because, if I do, this will feel like a few love taps in comparison. Am I understood?"

Knowing he expected an answer, Jenny sobbed out the word, "Yes" as she continued to cry into the bed covers.

As Gibbs hand finally stilled, Jenny's much sought relief was suddenly ripped from her as she felt Gibbs pick up the hairbrush that had lain against her side.

"No, No, No," she managed to squeal, lifting her legs to protect her throbbing bottom.

"Six swats, Jen," said Gibbs softly. "You can do this."

Hearing his voice and knowing what he said was true, didn't mean Jenny was fully ready to accept her fate. Pulling her hands free she quickly covered her bottom. Between her hands and feet, she ridiculously thought she was protected. As Gibbs took hold of her hands and secured them against her back, she lifted her legs higher until her feet were resting just above her bottom. But, once again, her efforts were futile, as Gibbs made quick work of pushing her legs down and locking his right leg over them. Her bottom was once again exposed and defenseless.

"Six swats," repeated Gibbs.

Jenny jumped slightly as the brush rested on her bottom, the coolness of the wood bringing a brief moment of relief to her burning skin. All too soon the comforting heaviness vanished and, seconds later, her right bottom cheek exploded as the brush fell with a heavy splat.

Jenny screeched loudly

"Fuck!"

"Hey! Watch the language," scolded Gibbs. "You cuss again and I'll follow up with another 50 from my hand."

Torn between telling Gibbs exactly what he could do with his hand and keeping her mouth shut to preserve what little skin might remain on her backside, Jenny kicked both legs as hard as she could against the bed. With both locked under his right leg, she didn't make much of an impression but the effort helped relieve some of the frustration she felt at the sudden pain.

The second swat was just as hard and, as it crashed against her left cheek Jenny screamed into the bed covers.

"Four to go," reminded Gibbs.

"I know!" shouted Jenny. "Just get on with it for god's sake!"

Four hard spanks landed on her upper thighs as Gibbs, having dropped the brush, used his hands to remind Jenny just who was in charge.

His right hand wavered above her thighs in suspended animation as Jenny felt Gibbs glaring down at her.

"You do not control this spanking, Young Lady," he scolded sternly. "Nor do you speak to me in that tone. Now, would you like me to continue with my hands for a while or shall we finish this spanking with the hairbrush? Your choice."

Knowing there was no escape, Jenny inhaled deeply. Exhaling slowly, her voice hitched as she softly spoke. "H-h-hairbrush."

"Smart choice," replied Gibbs as he picked up the dreaded wooden implement.

The next swat landed at the base of her bottom, right across the middle. This was a particularly sensitive spot and Jenny couldn't help crying out again remembering at last minute to refrain from cursing.

The fourth swat returned to the original pattern as it thudded against her right cheek. As acceptance washed over Jenny, she slumped helplessly into the bed and sobbed. The last two swats, although definitely still felt, did little to change her position. Her bottom throbbed with an indescribable hurt.

Knowing the spanking was over, Jenny chose not to move. Her upper thighs ached and, although Gibbs had released her from his hold, she simply lay across his lap and cried out all the guilt and remorse she had built up.

She felt Gibbs' hand caress her back. Normally she loved nothing better than to have his hand gently caress her bottom, softly squeezing her cheeks to relieve some of the sting. Now, however, as his hand strayed to her crimson backside, Jenny reached back and gripped his wrist.

"Not yet," she breathed softly. "It hurts too much."

Respecting her need to deal with what had just taken place, Gibbs returned to caressing her back and carding through her hair. When Jenny eventually stirred, it was to kneel up and remove her t-shirt.

"I'm not having anything touch my ass right now," she muttered, throwing the offending item to the floor.

Smiling at her indulgently, he pulled back when Jenny's finger pointed in his face. "And that includes you mister!" she added fiercely.

"Yes Ma'am," he said softly. Reaching out to brush her hair away from her face, he added, "You OK?"

Pulling back the covers, Jenny lay stomach down on the bed. Turning her head on the pillow so she could face him, she said softly. "I'm fine. I hurt like hell and I don't want to repeat that any time soon but, yeah, I'm OK."

She waited while Gibbs lowered himself onto the pillow. When he was settled, she crawled towards him and rested her head on his chest.

"I'm gonna burn that brush," she said vehemently. "That thing hurts like the devil."

Combing his fingers through her hair, Gibbs smiled. "I take it, it got the message across then?"

His answer was given in the withering look that was aimed in his direction.

After a few minutes of silence, Jenny said, "Am I bleeding. Surely you must have broken the skin."

"I'm pretty sure I didn't but I'm happy to check for you," replied Gibbs, shifting Jenny aside and sitting up. Carefully inspecting her bottom, Gibbs said, "Nope, no blood," before laying down again.

"Really?" exclaimed Jenny in surprise. Reaching back, she tentatively traced her fingers over the spots where the brush had landed, wincing as her skin made contact. As her tender skin acclimatised to the gentle touch, she rested her head on Gibbs' chest and took hold of his hand.

"OK, you can touch now," she conceded, carefully placing his hand on her bottom.

Chuckling softly, Gibbs rolled his eyes and kissed the top of her head. Reaching down, his right hand gently caressed along her back and over her bottom. He wasn't surprised to feel the heat that radiated from her crimson skin. It had been a thorough spanking and one she wouldn't soon forget.

"Promise me you won't lie to me again," he said softly as his hand rested on her heated skin.

Raising her head enough to look him in the eyes, Jenny found her own were, once again, swimming with tears.

"I promise," she choked out sincerely.

"Good," said Gibbs as he returned to gently caressing her bottom, "because I don't ever want to have to repeat that lesson."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi everyone, I know it's been a ridiculously long time since my last update. To be honest, life of late hasn't been great or kind. It's too personal to go into any detail but please know, I will never abandon a story. It may be slow but both this and An Australian Adventure will continue to be updated in time.**

 **I truly hope there are some of you still keen to read this story. I have the next chapter started and plan to update soon. Your support is much appreciated. MC xx**

Chapter 15

 _(Sections of dialogue taken from Season 3, Ep 8 – Undercovers)_

October 2005

"What makes you think the target's a male?" asked Jenny turning briefly from the large screen in MTAC to look at him. "Did you forget I'll be there?"

Gibbs ignored the implications behind her words. Since she'd arrived he'd been working hard to remain silent whenever Jen made an obvious allusion to his so called chauvinistic assumptions which, according to her, seemed to be frequent. Trying to adjust to their working relationship had been a challenge to say the least. Sometimes he felt she was deliberately baiting him just to see how he'd react. He wouldn't, of course. The wall between them loomed high and impenetrable and he wasn't even sure he was willing to try and break it down. She had hurt him deeply when she'd left six years ago. Wounded him far more than any bullet he'd suffered either in combat or as a Federal Agent.

Back then, Jen had been as precious to him as the very air he breathed. He would have done anything for her and, yet, he had been so easily dismissed, thrown aside like an unwanted toy. He knew there had to be more to it, but she'd never even given him the right of response. A "Dear John" letter had severed their relationship, taking with it, a sense of fulfillment and happiness he'd not experienced since Shannon. He had been ready to make a permanent life with Jenny and, having that suddenly ripped out from under him, had left yet another cavernous wound in his already shattered heart.

Yet, despite the hurt, he couldn't forget the fifteen months they'd shared. He'd grown so much as a person during that time, discovering parts within himself he'd never, before, fully embraced. He knew Jen had grown as well. He'd seen her change, seen her become more at one with herself. She had always been ambitious and driven. Her stubbornness had been both her ally and her enemy and she had trusted him to steer her back on track when life overwhelmed her. He'd never shared that kind of relationship with anyone before, not Rachel and, most definitely, not Shannon. Not to take anything away from the love and devotion he and Shannon had shared but, with Jen, it had been a whole new ball game. The mere fact they had been able to learn the many facets of the discipline dynamic together and become stronger for it, was something he would always treasure, regardless of where they stood now.

And, where did they stand? Gibbs honestly had no idea. There were numerous times in the last month where she had looked at him and he'd immediately found himself spinning back to the past. A smile, a blush, a wave of concern, each triggering a memory he'd long ago shut down. And, to be honest, her stubbornness, arrogance and constant baiting had his hands itching to connect with her still, very enticing, backside. Who was he kidding? A mere glance in his direction and he wanted nothing more than to drag her back to her office, flip her over his knee and redden her cheeks before claiming her, body, mind and soul. Their lovemaking had always been intense, impatient, and fiercely passionate. Even more so after a spanking. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he still missed her deeply.

But, he had to push those thoughts aside. As painful as it was, that part of their relationship was long over. Was he even willing to contemplate a second chance with Jen? He still cared deeply for her. In fact, he couldn't hate her if he wanted to. Not even six years ago when he'd processed what the letter had meant, could he hate. He'd been angry, sure. And hurt. But Jen had always been impulsive, rash, impetuous even and, deep down, he knew there was a part of him that hoped, one day, she'd realize what she'd done and come back to him, begging forgiveness. And, who was he kidding, he'd forgive her. If it meant having her back in his life, he'd just about do anything. But, one thing was sure, it had to be her to make the first move. She had taken it upon herself to walk away six years ago and he knew he was only willing to rekindle what they'd created, if she was willing to surrender herself to him once again and, by 'surrender', he meant completely. He knew he could never have a relationship with Jen unless they, once again, fully embraced the discipline dynamic they had worked hard to create.

Until then? Well, he guessed they would continue in this constant state of limbo that consumed their lives. The stagnated sexual tension that left him frustrated and wanting.

Biting back the words he would have liked to say, Gibbs steeled himself to remain calm and keep the conversion professional.

"Nope. Whoever set up the hit referred to the collar as a man," he managed to reply.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You've made contact."

"Ziva got a pay-phone call."

"You trace it?" Despite the lift to her voice, her words were more of an accusation than a question.

He looked down at her, sat primly on the chair, one leg crossed over the other. The Jen he knew would never have uttered such a ridiculous statement. Allowing himself the indulgence of sarcasm, he snapped his fingers saying, "Gee, why didn't I think of that?"

He moved down the aisle and took a seat next to her.

Blushing slightly at the obvious rebuke, Jenny replied, "Sorry, Jethro. I'm a little tired."

Remembering her constant battle with sleep and the many times they had used sex as a means of relaxation, he smirked and added, "Yeah, well, you never could pace yourself very well."

Gibbs watched as she slowly took off her glasses and stared at him with a self-satisfied grin.

"I have one word for you, Jethro," she announced smugly, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.

"Hmm?' he asked lazily.

"Positano."

Oh really? She was going to use that little gem on him. He reeled back indignantly.

"Come on!" he snapped playfully.

He knew what she was alluding to and it had nothing to do with a work/life balance. With his manhood in jeopardy, his only line of defense was attack.

"That was a week after I took a bullet!"

"Uh-huh," she placated.

And there it was. That look of familiarity that bridged the chasm that was the past six years. It was these moments of good natured banter he missed so much. But, as quick as it had appeared, the look was gone and Jenny was, once again, back to business.

As they discussed the information regarding the call, Gibbs couldn't help but notice the stress lines that were appearing on her face. Softening his voice, he turned to her and said, "Hey, nothing's gonna happen tonight. Tony and Ziva are hitting the rack. All the backup teams are in place around the hotel. Why don't you go grab forty on the couch in your office."

He knew before she even spoke, she was going to fight his words. He could see it in the way her chin stiffened stubbornly.

"No," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I just need a little coffee."

Pushing down the frustration that threatened to bubble to the surface, he tried to reason with her instead.

"Yeah?" he challenged. "And when the caffeine jolt ends?"

She turned to him and raised one eyebrow.

"I'll do what you do. Get a refill."

She wasn't taking this seriously and he was at a loss as to what to do. He no longer had any right to insist she take a break regardless of how much he would have loved to. All he could do was hope she'd realize in her own time the stress she was putting herself under and the way it had affected her in the past. Tiredness led to mistakes and, in her current position as Director, Jenny couldn't afford to make mistakes. She was no longer a probie and he was no longer in her life to jolt her back to reality. Well, not in the way he had been….

March 1998

The case was into its third day. Tempers were strained and stress levels were high. Surveying his team as they each sat at their desks, heads buried in whatever task they had been assigned, Gibbs contemplated the toll this case was taking.

Only one of the three exhibited a command of the situation. A seasoned agent with at least ten years under his belt, William Decker brought a new level of professionalism and experience to the team and, for that, Gibbs was truly grateful. It still bothered him as to why Decker had specifically asked to join his team and, despite what Morrow tried to tell him, Gibbs was under no illusions it was simply a case of Will wanting or needing the experience. Rumor mill had hinted at Decker being ready to run his own team so it made no sense he would seek out more time working under another leader and especially a leader like Gibbs.

"Stan, what's the latest intel from Quantico?" asked Jenny absentmindedly as she fumbled through the papers on her desk.

Her question roused Gibbs from his current musings and he, too, looked expectantly at Burley.

Stan clicked open his emails and sighed.

"Ahh, nothing," he said, scanning the screen.

"What?" replied Jenny, incredulously. "This is ridiculous. Don't they have some intelligence team trained to handle this kind of psychopath?"

"Well, if they do, they don't seem to think it worth their while recruiting them. Besides," added Stan, "We don't know if this is even a matter for the FBI. As far as we know, it could just be an isolated incident."

He was greeted with three identical withering looks and quickly returned to the file on his computer screen. "

"Well, I, for one, agree with Jenny," said Will, standing up and walking to the large white board on which they secured all their current information and findings. "This case has far too many similarities to those bodies pulled out of the Potomac last month near Knoxville. The FBI should be more involved."

"Until we can convince them this murder is connected to those two," said Gibbs, staring at his team, each in turn, "We're on our own. So, give me a sit rep. What do we know?"

"Nothing Gibbs," replied Jenny not bothering to hide her frustration. "That's the problem. We have nothing new since early this morning."

"What the hell have you been doing all morning?" snapped Gibbs, annoyed at Jenny's tone.

Seeing Jenny was on the point of exploding, Will quickly cut in.

"Running dead ends, it would seem."

Slamming his current cup of coffee down on his desk, Gibbs turned heel and stormed out of the area.

"At least we're working and not disappearing for cups of coffee every ten minutes," muttered Jenny under her breath.

"I heard that, Agent Shepard," called Gibbs from the staircase he was quickly ascending. "And, not that it's any of your business, but I'm heading to the Director's office to see if we can get the FBI on board. That is, of course, if it's OK with you?"

He stopped to glare at her and was pleased to see a slight tinge of red creeping along her cheeks. However, never one to back down from a good fight, Jenny merely jutted out her chin and replied, "Sure, say hi from me."

It was nearly forty minutes later when Gibbs re-entered their area.

"Any luck?" asked Stan.

"Not sure," replied Gibbs evasively. "Burley, I need you to head down to autopsy. Ask Ducky to cross check with the M.E. at Quantico. See if there's any link between the three murders."

As Stan nodded and made to stand, Gibbs, almost as an afterthought, said, "Take Shepard with you then meet us at the crime scene."

If it hadn't been so disrespectful, Gibbs would have laughed at the look Jenny gave him.

"You have a problem with that, Shepard?" he asked sardonically.

"Yes," she replied curtly, and Gibbs was forced once again to admire her daring. "Why can't I come straight to crime scene with you and Will? Even Burley can't mess up passing on such a simple message."

Ignoring the incredulous look on Stan's face, Gibbs said, "I'm sure he won't. But, if he does, you'll be there to offer assistance."

"But…" began Jenny.

"That's an order, Shepard," barked Gibbs, effectively ending the conversation and, just in case Jenny was in any doubt, he nodded curtly to Will and the two of them headed towards the elevator leaving Jenny staring after them.

As Will and Gibbs drove towards Perry Island, the location of their latest crime scene, Will looked towards Gibbs.

"You know, Jenny could've come with us," he said reasonably. "In fact, it really wouldn't have been a problem to wait for Stan and the four of us could have traveled together."

Gibbs shot him a look before returning his gaze to the road.

"You questioning my instructions?"

"No, I was just – "

Gibbs shot him a second look and Will sighed.

"Just offering a suggestion," he placated.

With both men staring ahead, silence once again enveloped them. Left to his own thoughts, Will began an internal dialogue summarizing what they already knew. He had no idea why Gibbs thought it necessary to head back to the island. The body had been discovered three days ago, washed up from the Potamac. They'd already conducted a thorough search and, in his mind, had collected everything there was to collect. However, he knew better than to ask for an explanation. Agents like Gibbs followed their gut and only when they felt it necessary, did they share whatever hunch they had with the rest of the team. It was frustrating but Will understood men like Gibbs and was content to sit in silence as the seasoned agent concentrated on the road.

It was a surprise then when Gibbs suddenly broke the silence.

"Why my team?"

With his mind still on the crime scene, Will turned sharply towards Gibbs.

"Huh?" he asked, frowning.

"Morrow said you specifically asked to join this team. I'm asking why."

Despite the accusatory tone, Will managed to remain calm.

"You're one of the best Agents at NCIS," he said casually. "I wanted to learn from the best."

Gibbs snorted. "Bull!" he all but spat out.

"Pardon?"

Will was surprised by the animosity Gibbs was displaying.

"I said, that's bull," repeated Gibbs. "According to scuttlebutt, you were in line for promotion. Your own team. Why the hell would you pass that up to come and work for me. Doesn't make sense Decker."

Will sighed. He should have known Gibbs would've seen through it.

Lowering his head, Will said quietly, "It's classified Gibbs."

Gibbs took his eyes off the road for a second to stare pointedly at the man next to him. "If it involves me, or any one of my team, I should know."

Again, Will sighed. He knew Gibbs wouldn't let this go until he had something to satisfy his curiosity.

"Off the record Gibbs," began Will, making sure Gibbs understood his meaning. When Gibbs nodded, Will continued. "There's a classified mission being set up for mid next year. Europe. Undercover. I'm the handler."

Gibbs' eyes once again left the road to stare at Will. "And you want my team to head it up?"

"Just two of you," replied Will slowly, annoyed he was giving up so much information. "It's my job to choose who the second agent will be, Burley or Shepard."

Returning his gaze to the road, Gibbs asked, "And…?"

Will scratched his head thoughtfully. He'd come this far, he may as well privy Gibbs to his thoughts.

"Well, I know she's inexperienced, a probie and all, but Shepard shows great potential. She's smart, shows initiative and, like you and me, listens to her gut. I'm not discounting Burley, he's a great agent too, but Shepard has that something special you don't often see, even in seasoned agents. She has leadership qualities and a determination and drive to match."

"You think she's ready for undercover work?" asked Gibbs.

"With some training, yes. She's got nine months to learn all that's needed."

Will watched as Gibbs nodded.

"This is off the record Gibbs," reminded Will. "You don't know any of this."

"I know," replied Gibbs quietly. "You don't need to tell me twice."

Having passed on the message to Ducky, Jenny and Stan headed for the parking garage to grab the truck.

"I'm driving," called Jenny as the elevator doors opened.

Without arguing, Stan walked around to the passenger door and climbed in.

Not really interested in making conversation, Stan closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the seat. As the truck wove in and around the traffic, Stan followed the internal map displayed in his head. It was only when he felt the truck swerve right instead of left, did he suddenly sit up and look out the window.

"Why aren't we crossing the 14th St Bridge?" he asked, noting the sign ahead was displaying Bethesda. "We need to get on the George Washington Memorial Parkway. It's the quickest way to Perry Island."

"I know," replied Jenny calmly. "But we're not going to Perry Island. Well, not first anyway."

Stan raised his eyebrows and stared at her.

"We're not?" he asked incredulously. "Want to share where we are going?"

"Knoxville."

The singular word was said in such a way as to make Stan think he'd simply forgotten the change in plans. It wasn't long before clarity returned.

"Pardon? Why the hell are we going to Knoxville? Other than it's nearly an hour on from where we need to be, Gibbs told us to meet at the crime scene." He looked pointedly at Jenny. "OUR crime scene, not the FBI's," he added to ensure she understood."

"I know."

Again, her calmness only made him more annoyed.

"We are meeting Gibbs at the crime scene." she added. "I'm just making a small detour first."

"Small!" Stan all but shouted the word. "I wouldn't call a ninety minute round trip a small detour."

Jenny sighed and slumped against the back of her seat.

"Look," she began slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "Ducky mentioned the Petty Officer had traces of a specific type of weed caught in his lungs. I know that weed or, more specifically, the flower from that weed. When I was young, Dad would take me with him to visit an old Navy Captain buddy who lived in Harpers Ferry. Sometimes we'd go hiking to Maryland Heights and I specifically remember seeing that wildflower growing along the banks of the river and asking Dad about it. When we combed the area around Perry Island, including the banks of the Potamac, we didn't see that wildflower anywhere. I know because I would have remembered it."

She paused and looked at Stan. The bemused look on his face sent waves of frustration through her body.

"Don't you get it?" she asked accusingly.

"Um….not really," replied Stan wondering if he'd missed something in her explanation. "What's that got to do with going to Knoxville?"

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"We need to check the area where those other bodies were found to see if that weed grows there. If it does, then we know there is a strong likelihood our Petty Officer drowned further up the river near Knoxville."

"And if it doesn't?" asked Stan.

"Then we wait to see if the other bodies had traces of that weed in their lungs. If so, then we have a connection."

"Can't we just wait to hear back from Ducky before we go charging off to Knoxville," suggested Stan. "Gibbs won't be happy when he finds out."

Repressing the urge to tell Stan exactly what Gibbs could do with his unhappy feelings, Jenny chose a more cunning route.

"Gibbs likes initiative, doesn't he?" she asked. Before Stan could answer she added, "And he definitely hates time wasting activities. The way I see it, we're saving time."

Stan snorted humorlessly. "How do you reckon that?"

Well, we'll either rule out any Knoxville connection by not finding anything or we may just find the link between the three murders. It's a win/win situation."

Stan was not convinced and expressed as such. "I still think we should speak to Gibbs first, run it past him."

"He'll just say no," replied Jenny.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Stan.

"Look, what's that rule he has?" Jenny thought for a second. "Um….something about begging forgiveness rather than asking permission." She looked to Stan for inspiration.

"It's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission," quoted Stan, his heart sinking lower. "Rule 18," he added for good measure.

"That's the one," said Jenny brightly.

"Fine," agreed Stan resignedly. "But let it go on record I'm not happy with this nor do I think we're doing the right thing."

"Sure," quipped Jenny. "Whatever you say."

An hour later, having thoroughly searched the area where the Knoxville bodies had been found, Jenny and Stan made their way back to the truck, empty handed.

"What a waste of time that was," snarled Stan.

Despite secretly agreeing with him, Jenny said, instead, "Not really. At least now we know the bodies weren't drowned here."

"Body," corrected Stan. "We don't know if the other two even have that weed in their lungs. Which is why I wanted to wait until we'd heard from Ducky," he added sharply, frustration evident in his tone. "All we know now is-"

His words were cut off by the sound of his cell ringing. Looking at the caller ID he groaned loudly.

"Just great," he said sarcastically. "It's Gibbs."

Jenny listened as Stan answered the call. She cringed when Gibbs' voice came through loud and clear. There was no need to place the call on speaker.

"Where the hell are you two?" barked Gibbs.

"Ah…Knoxville, boss," replied Stan tentatively.

There was a moments silence and both Jenny and Stan prepared for the verbal onslaught. However, it didn't come. In a voice that was both quiet and controlled, Gibbs said, "Get in the truck and both of you get your asses back here."

"Gibbs, we…., "began Stan nervously.

"Now, Burley!" demanded Gibbs and there was no mistaking the underlying anger in his voice.

With the dial tone now the only sound emanating from the cell, Stan and Jenny trudged their way back to the truck. As Jenny started the engine, they neither spoke nor made eye contact. They had forty-five long minutes to anticipate their fates.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and messages. You have no idea how much they mean to me. Life continues to slowly improve, day by day.**

 **I hope you enjoy this next chapter. The ending reconnects with the start of chapter 15 - and dialogue is taken from season 3 episode 8 - "Undercovers"**

Chapter 16

"What the hell were the two of you doing in Knoxville?"

Gibbs stood, feet apart with arms clenched to his side; the tightened fists being the only sign of how pissed he truly was.

"We were following up on a lead," said Burley, cutting in before Jenny could speak.

Raising a speculative eyebrow, Gibbs glared at him.

"What lead?" he demanded gruffly.

"Ducky mentioned something about some weed in our victim's lungs and we thought maybe there might have been weeds in…um…the area…or in the other bodies….or maybe further north near Harpers Ferry….ah…. "

Jenny sighed as Stan fumbled with the explanation. It had been gallant of him to try to share the blame but Jen didn't need any one, particularly not a man, to stand up for her. She was confident in her convictions and more than willing to speak for herself.

"It was my idea," she cut in before Stan managed to choke on his own foot. "When Ducky mentioned about the weed in the vic's lungs I recognized it from when I used to spend time in Harpers Ferry or, more accurately, Maryland Heights. It grows right down to the water's edge. I wanted to check if it also grew around Knoxville as that would be our link to the other two murders."

"So, you thought you'd go charging off to a town over forty minutes away on a hunch? Without discussing it with me first?"

Despite sounding calm on the surface, neither Jenny nor Stan were fooled. The icy glare from Gibbs' eyes was enough to freeze them where they stood.

"I made the call, Gibbs," said Jenny, drawing the chilly glare back in her direction. "I saw an opportunity to link the two cases and I took it."

Holding his anger in check, Gibbs kept his voice even. "And, did you? Link the two cases, I mean."

For the first time, Jenny lowered her eyes to the ground. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she lifted her gaze and stared, once again, into the iced-blue glare.

"I've managed to rule out Knoxville as the place in which our vic was murdered _and_ ," she emphasized the conjunction before Gibbs let fly with whatever tirade she knew was coming, "I've also ruled out here," her arms moved possessively over the landscape, "as that weed isn't found here either. All we need now, is to hear from Ducky that the two FBI bodies also had traces of that weed in their lungs and we have our connection."

The silence that followed Jenny's explanation was thick with unspoken fury. Stan fidgeted uncomfortably, while Jenny jutted out her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. The contrast between the two stances was immediately telling and Gibbs' sharp perception didn't miss the signs.

"Did it, at any stage, occur to either of you to call me?" Gibbs continued to glare at the two agents.

"Stan did mention it," replied Jenny and Gibbs noted the first sign of regret in her voice. "But, I thought it better to go ahead and use some initiative."

Gibbs raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Oh, did you, _Probationary_ Agent Shepard?"

Ignoring the obvious attempt to put her in her place, Jenny straightened her stance and said strongly, "Yes, I did."

"Well, that's just great."

Sarcasm dripped from every word Gibbs uttered.

"However, had either of you bothered to contact to me I could have informed you of Ducky's findings. He called nearly two hours ago and confirmed your theory, Agent Shepard. Both FBI bodies had traces of that weed in their lungs which, as you have already stated, isn't found in or around Knoxville."

Jenny's eyes lit up with relief and satisfaction.

"So, our trip wasn't wasted," she began confidently. "Thanks to us –" she pointed between herself and Stan, "we can now confirm the absence of that plant in the Knoxville area."

"Yes…," acknowledged Gibbs.

Jenny's smile widened as she secretly congratulated herself. However, Gibbs' next words quickly eroded her wall of self-satisfaction.

"…A fact already confirmed by Ducky – " Gibbs checked his watch with theatrical exaggeration "- oh, let's see…hmmm…ninety-eight minutes ago."

He glared at Jenny and was pleased to see contrition replacing confidence.

"Yes, Agent Shepard, the FBI agents managed to rule out Knoxville as the murder scene once their M.E. informed them of the plant trace and they rechecked the area last week. As unbelievable as it may seem, occasionally the FBI does manage to get somethings right."

Gibbs drew his attention back to the two Agents in front of him.

"Had either of you bothered to call me before you went charging off on a hunch or, better yet, had done as you were instructed and come straight here, I could have passed on that information and neither of you would have needed to waste both gas and resources repeating a task already completed days ago. Not to mention the waste of time which could have been put to better use helping us here."

Not quite ready to call their road trip a complete loss, Jenny clung to her last thread of redemption.

"If you knew this when you called us in Knoxville, why didn't let us travel on to Harpers Ferry. Starting from here will only have wasted more time. Stan and I could be there now collecting evidence."

"Along with the FBI?" replied Gibbs coldly. "A team is already out there. As you so strongly suggested this morning, Agent Shepard, the two agencies are now working together to solve this."

Jenny dropped her head in defeat.

"Nothing more to add?" asked Gibbs, the acidic tone clearly burning a hole through any argument she may have had left.

Her silence was deafening.

"What about you, Agent Burley? Any theories you'd like to add?"

"No, Boss," mumbled Stan.

"Good!" announced Gibbs, his tone suggesting anything but good.

"Shepard, go and help Decker with the samples he and I collected earlier. I'll talk to you in a minute."

Giving Stan an apologetic look, Jenny chose not to argue further and walked away.

Gibbs glared at the young man before him.

"Burley, when you and Shepard work together, you are the Agent in Charge. If you have been given direct instructions to follow, it's your job to ensure they are carried out. It's your job to say no!"

"Have you ever tried to stop Jenny doing something once she has her mind set?" replied Stan incredulously.

Despite the desire to grin, Gibbs managed to hold his emotions in check and barked, "Yes."

"Well, maybe she listens to you, but she sure as hell doesn't listen to me," continued Stan. "I tried to tell her it wasn't a good idea but stopping Jenny Shepard is like stopping a freight train with your bare hands. I'm not Superman, Boss."

"No, but you were the Agent In Charge and, as such, you needed to act like one. If she won't listen to reason, just ignore her and continuing driving to where you were told to go," suggested Gibbs.

"It's a bit hard when she's the one driving, Boss."

Gibbs sighed. Softening his tone his said quietly, "Burley, if you want to move forward in this job, you're going to have to grow a pair. Probationary Agents are out to prove themselves and, while I'm not saying you should ever dismiss anything they say, you need to filter through their energy and enthusiasm and steer it in the right direction. You've seen me do it enough times. Observe and learn from those around you. Pay attention to team interaction. You're a good agent, Burley. Use your skills."

Reaching out his index finger, Gibbs gave Stan a quick jab just under the collarbone pushing the younger man slightly backwards.

"Rule five, Burley. Remember it!"

"Yes, Boss," replied Stan contritely.

As Stan turned to walk away, Gibbs called out, "Oh, and Burley?"

Turning back, Stan waited for the final judgement.

"You ever waste two hours on my clock again, you'll be doubling that in unpaid overtime. Got it?"

"Yes, Boss," replied Stan and, turning back, he continued his trudge to the crime scene.

As Gibbs waited for Jenny to reach him, he thought carefully about how to handle the situation. The infraction had been work related and, therefore, his reaction needed to stay professional. It was a position Gibbs often found very difficult. As he had previously said to Jenny, he wasn't a robot. Switching between boss and lover wasn't an easy task for anyone. But, today was different. She hadn't put herself in any danger nor had she set out to deliberately deceive him. She had sensed a hunch and used her initiative to explore it. Yes, in this case, it had backfired but he didn't want to squash her spirit.

When Jenny was, finally, standing before him, Gibbs figuratively put on his work cap and stared into the eyes of his probationary agent.

"Today, you achieved and moved forward."

It took every ounce of Gibbs' willpower not to laugh at the complete look of bewilderment that crossed Jenny's face. These were certainly not the words she had expected to hear. As she metaphorically picked her jaw off the ground, Gibbs continued.

"You used your initiative. You trusted your gut and made a call and you followed through on that call. For a probationary agent, they are huge milestones. Your task now is to fine tune that gut. Think it through before putting it into action. Explore all possibilities."

Gibbs watched as Jenny digested the praise. He allowed a few seconds as she shifted into a place of understanding and acceptance before he shifted into a place of correction.

"However –"

Observing the quick transition from neutral to defensive, Gibbs steadied his gaze and continued. "-today you made two very crucial mistakes. What were they?"

The question was not rhetorical and Gibbs waited for an answer.

Leaning into her right hip, Jenny crossed her arms and raised her eyes to stare just above Gibbs' head.

"I didn't call you first," she replied, a huge sigh accompanying her words.

Ignoring the attitude, Gibbs pushed further. "And?"

"I was wrong," she added, shrugging nonchalantly.

"No," corrected Gibbs. "Using initiative isn't a mistake. Even when it doesn't pan out as you'd hoped, never ignore your gut."

Jenny shrugged again but, this time, the attitude was replaced with confusion.

"I don't know then," she said, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Gibbs could see she was genuinely at a loss and so decided to take a different tact.

"Who was in charge today? When you and Burley are partnered together, who is the lead agent?"

"Burley," she replied quickly.

"And, at any point today did he disagree with your suggestions?"

Suddenly realizing where Gibbs was going with his line of questioning, Jenny rolled her eyes and recrossed her arms.

"He may have done," she replied with attitude.

"May or did?" asked Gibbs annoyed at her attempt to dilute the truth.

"Fine!" she grumbled loudly. "He didn't think it was a good idea and wanted to call you first. There," she added petulantly. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Gibbs' eyes flashed angrily as he leaned into her personal space.

"You might wanna drop the attitude, young lady," he said between gritted teeth. "I am discussing this with you as a professional. I would appreciate the same in return."

Jenny's cheeks blazed red with embarrassment and Gibbs knew his words had hit their mark. Her stance softened and her eyes filled with remorse.

Moving forward with the conversation, Gibbs said, "So when Burley, who was the lead agent, didn't agree with your suggestion, what did you do?"

"I argued the point and, then, chose to ignore him."

Gibbs was pleased to hear the contrition in her tone.

"You were driving?" he asked.

"Yes."

Gibbs sighed.

"You know, when partnered with Burley or anyone for that matter, they become the agent in charge and you, as probationary agent are tasked with doing as you're told." As Jenny opened her mouth to protest, Gibbs continued speaking, effectively cutting her off. "That doesn't mean you don't have an opinion or the right to express it. It does, however, mean that it is the prerogative of the lead agent to disagree with your opinion and ignore it. When that happens, you are to follow orders regardless. Is that clear?"

"But what if their orders don't make any sense?" asked Jenny, annoyed by Gibbs' words.

"Doesn't matter. You follow them and then leave it up to me as Team Leader to deal with it."

"That's crap!" huffed Jenny.

"That's life," replied Gibbs. "Now, are we clear on your place in this team?"

Pursing her lips, Jenny refused to answer.

"Are we clear, Probationary Agent Shepherd," repeated Gibbs, his tone edged with annoyance.

Jenny huffed loudly before replying, "Crystal, Agent Gibbs."

"Good," replied Gibbs calmly. "Now, seeing as you appear to have problems following orders when behind the wheel of the work vehicle, unless it is an emergency or genuinely unavoidable, you are barred from driving for a month."

"Are you serious?" asked Jenny incredulously.

"Deadly," replied Gibbs.

Realizing she had nowhere to go with any line of argument she may have wanted to express, Jenny conceded defeat.

"Fine," she replied, raising her arms in frustration. "Can I go back to the others now?"

"Nope," said Gibbs curtly. "You can return to the van." He gestured towards Burley and Decker. "Looks like those two are finish bagging and tagging. We're heading back to base."

****NCIS****

As Gibbs opened the front door and allowed Jenny to pass into the house, he couldn't help noticing the tension she'd displayed on the journey home. Following her into the entry, he secured both their weapons in the safe before heading into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

Watching as Jenny hung uncomfortably in the entrance between the dining room and kitchen, Gibbs raised an eyebrow and asked, "What's wrong?"

Jenny shrugged.

"That's not an answer, Jen," he replied. "I can't do anything if I don't know what the problem is. You've been tense since we left work."

Lowering her gaze, Jenny picked at her fingernails.

"I'm….I'm not sure what to expect?" she finally answered, her voice soft and unsure.

"Huh?" said Gibbs furrowing his brows in confusion. He made his way over to where she stood and, placing his hands on her shoulders, lowered his head until their foreheads touched.

"What do you mean by expect?" he asked softly.

"Well…today….at work….I…um messed up," she began tentatively.

"Yes," replied Gibbs, still keeping his forehead on hers. "And we dealt with it, at work," he added firmly.

Now it was Jenny's turn to furrow her eyebrows.

"But…don't you need to… you know…," she blushed as she stammered her way through her words.

Gibbs stepped back slightly making it easier to keep eye contact.

"Need to what?" he asked gently. "Spank you?"

Her blushed deepened. "Yeah," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Taking her hand, Gibbs lead her towards the sofa and pulled her down to sit next to him.

"Jen, what happened today happened at work and it was dealt with at work. There was no need for any physical reprimand and, had there been, it would have happened at work. Unless you choose to make an issue personal, all work infractions are dealt with, and end, in that building."

"So, I'm off the hook then?" asked Jenny carefully.

"As far as what happened today, yes," replied Gibbs. "As best as we can, we need to keep our professional relationship separate from our personal one. I know that's not always going to be possible but, as far as today is concerned, it's been dealt with. You're barred from driving the work vehicle for a month and you were reminded to obey those in charge."

As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit Gibbs senses, he stood. Facing her, he added quickly, "We're at home. We can't do anymore about the case, so let's try and enjoy a work free evening."

Jenny watched as Gibbs headed back into the kitchen. She was grateful for his reassurances and relieved the issue was closed however, a small part of her was left wanting. As ridiculous as it sounded, there was a part of Jenny that had hoped for a chance to argue her point further.

She felt irritable and irritated. As had been the case over the last few days, her mind was exhausted but her body refused to rest. She needed to push at something, relieve the inner tension that had rapidly built during the last week. Their current case and lack of closure was maddening and, with Gibbs busy the last few nights, she hadn't had someone to spar with, express her frustrations and, ultimately, help her with falling asleep. As a result, the last three nights she had only managed to average around five hours sleep. Well below the agreed seven hours. It wasn't that she hadn't tried to sleep. She had conscientiously put herself to bed at 10.30 every night but falling asleep had been another matter. She'd tried listening to music, meditation, even jogging after work to exhaust her body but nothing had worked.

And so, between the irritations of the case and not being able to sleep, along with the tiredness that now consumed her mind, Jenny was ready to take out her frustrations on anyone within spitting distance. And, unfortunately for Gibbs and, even more so for her, the man who currently stood in the kitchen, diligently making them both coffee, became her intended target.

Carrying the two mugs into the living room, Gibbs placed them on the coffee table before flicking on the TV. As the picture slowly came to life, Jenny sighed loudly and rolled her eyes.

"When do you think you might treat yourself to a new TV?" she asked irritably. "You can barely even watch this one."

Gibbs picked up his coffee mug and sank into the couch next to her.

He shrugged, "S'ok," he said nonchalantly. "I only watch the news or black and white movies anyway."

"I know," replied Jenny condescendingly. "It would be nice to watch something up to date for a change."

"The news is up to date," said Gibbs, refusing to play into her attempts to bait him.

She gave him a withering look. "That's not what I meant."

Staring at the newsreader on the screen, Jenny sighed. "Can I see what else is on?" she asked, picking up the ancient remote.

"After the news," replied Gibbs, sipping from his cup.

"You already know all the news," argued Jenny. "We listened to it in the car on the way home."

"Yes, and now I want to watch it," retorted Gibbs firmly.

"So, I don't get a say in what we watch?" asked Jenny crossly.

Turning away from the TV screen, Gibbs levelled Jenny with a warning look.

"Your tone is quickly becoming disrespectful," he said quietly. "You may want to re-think your attitude."

Slamming her coffee cup down on the table, Jenny stood and stormed into the kitchen. Not really sure what she was looking for, Jenny decided to open and close every cupboard door until she found something she wanted. Not caring about the noise she made as each cabinet door banged shut, she relentlessly carried out her task. It was only when her arm was caught in mid air was she forced to stop.

"What are you doing?" asked Gibbs crossly not longer immune to her obvious display of temper.

Thinking quickly, Jenny said, "I'm looking for the chocolate bar I left here last week."

"Seriously?" asked Gibbs incredulously. "That was ages ago. It's long gone."

"Who said you could eat it?" demanded Jenny. "I was saving it."

"It's never been a problem in the past," retorted Gibbs. "Why is it an issue tonight?"

"Because I want some chocolate."

Letting go of her arm, Gibbs turned to the cupboard next to the fridge. Opening the door and rummaging through the contents on the shelf, he pulled out two different candy bars.

"There," he said, placing them on the table. "Have one of those."

Jenny stared at each candy bar in turn. "I don't want those," she said disdainfully. "I want the one I bought."

Gibbs sighed. "What's the problem, Jen. This isn't about chocolate, is it?"

Despite the gentleness in his tone, Jenny wasn't prepared to back down just yet. As irrational anger bubbled to the surface, she threw up her arms in frustration.

"Forget it!" she huffed. "I'll go without."

Turning to leave the kitchen, her arm was once again held by Gibbs preventing her from storming out.

"I asked you a question," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "What's the problem?"

Realising she was crossing into dangerous territory, Jenny tried to curb her rising anger.

"Nothing," she replied curtly. "I just wanted some of the chocolate I bought. Is that a crime?"

"No, but your attitude is quickly becoming one," said Gibbs. He glared at her sternly and suddenly noticed the darkened circles under her eyes.

"How many hours sleep have you been getting lately?" he asked suspiciously.

Fidgeting slightly, Jenny pulled her arm out of Gibbs' grasp, and stood mutely before him.

"Jen?" His voice was heavy with warning. "I asked you a question."

"I've been going to bed at 10.30 every night," she retorted defensively.

"That's not what I asked," he replied quietly. "How many hours of sleep have you been getting."

Slumping her shoulders, Jenny crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "I've been trying to sleep," she grumbled. "I've tried listening to music. I've tried going to bed at 9.30 and reading for an hour. I've tried going for a jog after work. Hell, I've even tried meditation! Nothing works! Some nights I lay there until 1.00am and the more frustrated I get, the less I can sleep."

Reaching out and gently massaging her right shoulder, Gibbs said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were busy, Jethro," she said, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"Not too busy for you," he replied. "Never, too busy for you."

He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. "I know this case is taking its toll. And, yes, I have been preoccupied with trying to solve it and that's kept me away. But, that doesn't mean you can't ring me or even talk to me at work. Letting it fester away until you are no longer capable of thinking rationally isn't good for anyone."

Jenny's eyes flashed with fire. "I'm not being irrational," she snapped angrily.

"I beg to differ," replied Gibbs reaching passed her and holding up one of the candy bars. Placing it back on the table, he continued. "And it's not just about tonight. When you're tired, one of the first things to suffer is your ability to make clear and rational decisions. Today, in the field with Burley, was a classic example."

"Thought we weren't going to bring that up again," she mumbled churlishly.

"No, I said the issue was a work one and, as such, had been dealt with at work," said Gibbs calmly. "What we're discussing now is how your lack of sleep affects your decision making skills. Would you agree?"

Not ready to admit her failings just yet and definitely still irritable with pent up frustration, Jenny rolled her eyes and, with a carelessly tossed, "Whatever," turned away towards the living room.

She was abruptly stopped as Gibbs, once again, took hold of her arm.

"Do not dismiss me with an arrogant 'whatever'. That's a sure-fire way to end up over my knee," growled Gibbs. "It's disrespectful and childish. If you don't agree with something, at least have the maturity to discuss it."

Spots of anger appeared on Jenny's cheeks as Gibbs' rebuke sunk in.

"I don't want to discuss it anymore," she replied hotly. "Just forget it. Go back to watching you ancient TV and I'll find something else to do."

But Gibbs refused to let her go.

"You asked me to help you with this issue and I said I would. I don't back down on my promises."

"I don't want your help," fumed Jenny.

"Too bad," replied Gibbs. "You're stuck with it."

Trying to wrench her hand out of Gibbs' grip, Jenny stamp her foot angrily.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

"Only when you calm down enough to discuss this rationally."

He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and turned her towards it. "Now, sit down and let's talk about what's going on."

As her temper reached boiling point, Jenny no longer felt in control of her actions and, what's more, had no intention of reigning them in. It felt good to be angry. It felt good to lash out at someone and, at this point in time, Jenny didn't have any thought of consequences or repercussions. It was for this reason, she gave an almighty tug with her constrained arm and, glaring Gibbs straight in the eye, let loose with an angrily screamed, "Fuck you!"

The silence that followed echoed with the venom from her words. Knowing she had just crossed the line, Jenny's stomach turned over with trepidation. She wasn't sure if it was the aftershock of what she had just done or the quiet anger that simmered from Gibbs but, when he pulled her towards the living room and turned her so she was facing into a corner, she found herself going willingly. Only when she discovered he'd let her go and was walking away, did she fire up again.

"What the hell?" she began, turning around abruptly.

In one purposeful step, Gibbs was standing in her space. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her back towards the corner.

"Don't say one word," he ordered, his voice seething with anger. "Get your face into that corner and stay there until I tell you to turn around."

Completely taken aback by Gibbs' sudden authoritative stance, Jenny tried to defuse the situation.

"Look," she began, her tone now cajoling in nature, "I know I was out of line just then and…."

"Damn straight you were," snapped Gibbs. "And, right now, I'm not in the right place to deal with it. So, unless you want me to get the wooden spoon from the kitchen and apply ten swats to your backside, I suggest you turn around, face the wall and think about the way you have been behaving tonight."

Jenny's mouth fell open in shock.

"I'm not five years old! You can't stand me in the corner and expect me to _think_ about my behaviour," she retorted angrily, placing air quotations around the word 'think'.

"You're right," replied Gibbs. "You're not five years old. You're old enough to control your temper. You're old enough to sit down and discuss things rationally but, for some reason, tonight you have decided to ignore all that. And, as such, it's my job, as asked by you I might add, to step in when you are no longer in control. So that's exactly what I'm doing. And, right now, you and I both need time to calm down. So, for the last time, turn around and face the corner."

"No!"

Jenny, stunned by the enormity of her own words, could only stare as Gibbs turned towards the kitchen. Hearing him open one of the drawers she quickly faced the wall calling out, "OK. I'm sorry. I'm facing the wall."

"Too late."

With wooden spoon in hand, Gibbs snaked his left arm around Jenny's waist and lifted her off the ground effectively bending her over and positioning her bottom high in the air. Lifting his right hand, he landed ten smarting swats with the wooden spoon to the centre of Jenny's backside eliciting a torrent of yelps and cries and she struggled to break free.

When the last swat landed, Gibbs stood Jenny upright and pushed her back into the corner. Taking her hands, he placed them on her head saying, "Keep your hands there until I tell you to turn around. No talking and no rubbing. Understood?"

With a tearful nod, Jenny replied in the affirmative.

Stepping away from her, Gibbs returned to the kitchen and placed the spoon back in the drawer. He didn't need to be reminded of its presence and he was sure Jenny didn't either. Sitting down at the kitchen table, Gibbs placed his elbows on the surface and sunk his head into the comforting warmth of his hands. This was not how he'd envisaged the evening panning out.

Not twenty feet away stood a sniveling Jenny. Her bottom burned and her hands longed to reach back and rub out the incessant sting. But, with Gibbs in his current mood, she didn't dare. What had she been thinking, she silently berated. Sure, she'd been pushing for a fight all evening but, now that push had come to shove, she wasn't prepared for the fall out. Gibbs had never stood her in the corner before. He'd threatened it but never acted on it. It was there to be used when either, or both, were not in control of their anger and, for the first time, she had pushed Gibbs into using it. Not only that, she had continued fighting him until he made good on his threat of the wooden spoon. Another first for their relationship. And for what? Gibbs was right. She had asked him to take control when she was no longer capable of being rational and, when he did, what did she do? She cursed at him with the venom of a shrew. This is exactly why she had asked Gibbs to discipline her and it was time she put on her big girl panties and accepted the consequences. Although, in her case, she'd be pulling down her big girl panties, she thought ruefully.

"Have you calmed down enough to deal with this rationally?"

Gibbs stood behind her, his voice quiet and firm. When she nodded soberly, he took hold of her arms and gently brought them down to her sides. With his hand in the small of her back, he led her into the kitchen and, taking a seat on one of the chairs, maneuvered her between his legs.

"Why are you getting this spanking?" he asked as his fingers deftly worked the button and zipper of her work pants.

Feeling the fabric being tugged down to her ankles, Jenny sucked in a breath and said, "Because I lost my temper and cursed at you."

"Exactly," replied Gibbs.

When the lacy cream panties were also puddled at her feet, Jenny felt herself being pulled forward and over Gibbs' left knee. Without preamble, he locked his right leg over hers. With her hands flat on the kitchen floor for support, Jenny shuddered. If he was already locking her legs down, she knew this wasn't going to be good. She was right.

Without warning, Gibbs' hand crashed down onto her left bottom cheek filling the air with an echoing 'splat' before raising it again and smacking it down in the exact same spot. He didn't scold, there was no need. The only sounds that filled the kitchen was that of flesh meeting flesh and Jenny's accompanying cries of pain. No area of her petite backside or upper thighs were left untouched as Gibbs' hand peppered every inch of her bare skin. The heat and pain intensified as Gibbs upped the anti and crashed his hand down even harder causing Jenny to catch her breath.

Just as panic began to set in, his hand finally stilled and she gasped with relief. Dangled uncomfortably over his knee, she was even more relieved when he reached down and lifted her back into a standing position. Her hands were caught in his and held in front of her, denying her any chance of rubbing out the terrible ache that seemed to consume her whole lower half. Sobbing freely, she stood before him, all desire to fight having left the moment the first spank landed.

"Do you want to sit on my knee?" asked Gibbs gently. "I can position you so your bottom doesn't touch my leg."

She nodded dolefully and Gibbs lifted her carefully, placing her thighs on his which allowed her bottom to hang over his knee. Placing his arm around her, he rubbed her back gently and kissed the top of her head as it snuggled against his chest.

"You know," he began softly. "Tonight didn't have to end this way."

She lifted her head and looked at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, tonight didn't have to end in a discipline spanking," he reiterated. "The minute you walked through the door and began picking fights told me you were stressed and tired. Instead of just talking it through and allowing me to help you deal with those emotions, you turned those feelings into temper and nastiness sealing your fate for what was to come."

Jenny lowered her head as fresh tears began to fall.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

"I know you are, love," replied Gibbs. "But, it should never had reached this point. You have never pushed me as far as you did tonight and, as a result, you faced the consequences. Corner time, the wooden spoon and a hard, bare-bottomed spanking."

Despite the sternness in his tone, Jenny felt a familiar tingling begin in the centre of her core. Those words, that tone, his dominance would always be a point of arousal and a well spanked bottom only heightened the feeling. Subconsciously she rubbed against his thigh and felt a jolt of pleasure before it was replaced with a stinging smack as his hand connected with her thigh.

"I know what you're doing, young lady," growled Gibbs sternly. "We still need to discuss your behaviour so cut it out."

Pouting slightly, she, once again, rested her head against his chest.

"However, that very action," he added, patting her bare bottom gently, "is exactly what I'm talking about."

Standing up, he wrapped her legs around his waist and headed to the sofa in the living room. With her still straddling his waist, he lowered himself onto the soft cushions taking Jenny with him. Cupping her bottom in his hands, he rubbed gently and continued speaking.

"I understand your desire to be spanked. I get that it is many things to you. A means of arousal, a tool for stress release and a way of helping you when you lose control. Even discipline spankings are desired by you when needed. However, tonight didn't have to be discipline. Instead you could have explained to me how you were feeling and I would have been more than happy to cure your frustrations with a stress release spanking. That would have been something we both would've enjoyed. Am I right?"

Sated by the feel of his hands as they caressed her aching bottom, Jenny nodded.

"Instead, you behaved completely out of control to the point where both of us were put into a position neither wanted to be in. And that's not fair to either of us but especially not me."

Gibbs removed his hands from her bottom and used one to lift her chin. When her gaze met his, he continued. "It's not fair to use me in that way. If you desire a spanking, tell me. Don't act like a brat and push me to the point where I'm so angry I can't even deal with you."

His words hit home and tears spilled down Jenny's cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I didn't think of it in that way. But, you're right, it wasn't fair. I should have asked for a spanking. I felt frustrated but I didn't know how to deal with it. I won't do it again."

"I hope not," replied Gibbs seriously. "Because, if you do, I'll be using that wooden spoon on your bare bottom. Is that clear?"

She nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered remorsefully.

Suddenly his hands were back to caressing her bottom.

"Now," he said seductively as his fingers dipped into her wetness. "How about we salvage what's left of this evening."

Rising on her knees to give him better access to her throbbing sex, Jenny nuzzled into his neck and murmured throatily. "Oh yes please, Oh yes!"

****NCIS****

Trying not to blush at the memory, Gibbs stared at the woman next to him. Coffee would only work for a short time. He knew her too well. Sleep was the only cure for her current tiredness and she needed to realize that before mistakes were made.

He looked at her following her suggestion of 'doing what he did' and getting a refill.

"You're not me," he said firmly.

"Chauvinist," she retorted.

Laughing, he shook his head. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah...I guess."

Just before standing, he gave her a last look.

"Goodnight Jen," he said softly.

Jenny watched as he moved towards the stairs. A tinge of disappointment washed over her. She was tired and Gibbs was right; she needed to sleep. His suggestion of taking a nap in her office was a good one. So why didn't she do it? She knew why. A small wistful part of her wanted him to take charge again, order her to take a nap. But that wasn't about to happen. She'd made sure of that six years ago. Oh how she missed that side of him. How her body ached to be taken in his arms or, better yet, taken across his knee and then into his arms.

Feeling the blush rise rapidly to her cheeks, Jenny looked down and away from his scrutinizing glance.

"Jethro?"

Sensing him stopping at the top of the stairs, she pushed back past memories and desires and forged ahead with business as usual.

"I need to bounce something off you..."


	17. Chapter 17

**Just a quick chapter because not all spankings are discipline...**

Chapter 17

"I can't believe we have the whole weekend free," said Jenny as she and Gibbs entered through Gibbs' front door. "How did we manage that?"

"It's not our turn," replied Gibbs. "White's team are on rotation this weekend and, as we don't have a current case, we get a break."

"About time," said Jenny as she sunk into the worn cushions of Gibbs' sofa. Curling up her feet, she laid her head on the arm rest.

"Drink?" asked Gibbs as he passed her on the way into the kitchen.

"Mmhmm," replied Jenny sleepily. "Coffee please."

Gibbs checked his watch.

"OK, one coffee and then it's tea for the rest of the evening."

"Pardon?" Jenny sat up abruptly and stared at him as he disappeared into the kitchen.

"You heard," he called.

Within seconds Jenny was by his side.

"Why tea for the rest of the night?" she asked, leaning back on the counter and watching while Gibbs took down two mugs.

"You know why, Jen," replied Gibbs simply. "We've had this conversation before."

"But it's the weekend," protested Jenny. "We don't have work in the morning and, besides, I'm so tired I'll be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. Having coffee won't make any difference."

"Let's not put it to the test, hey," remarked Gibbs as he carefully filled the two mugs. Handing one to Jenny he added, "You need sleep more than you need coffee."

"Pfft," scoffed Jenny. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You constantly drink coffee and hardly ever sleep."

"We're not talking about me, Jen," replied Gibbs. "And besides, I can cope on very little sleep. You learn how to in the corps."

Rolling her eyes, Jenny pulled face at him.

"I can always pour this down the sink?" he said sternly.

"No!" replied Jenny, quickly taking the mug from him. "I'll enjoy my one cup."

As she turned towards the living room, Gibbs reached out and swatted her playfully on the bottom, laughing when she squealed indignantly.

When dinner was over and the dishes washed, Jenny waited for Gibbs to join her on the sofa. Having just flicked on the TV, she watched as Gibbs smiled when the familiar theme music to the news began.

"Just in time," he said cheerfully as he took a seat, stretching out his legs and resting his feet on the coffee table.

Snuggling into his side, Jenny rested her head on his chest.

"So, what should we do tonight? We could watch a video," she suggested.

Kissing the top of her head, Gibbs turned back to the TV.

"By the time the news finishes, it'll be too late to start a movie."

Jenny twisted slightly to look up into his eyes.

"Have you forgotten it's Friday night, Jethro?" she reminded him. "No work tomorrow."

"Have you forgotten Monday night, Jen?" retorted Gibbs.

Jenny blushed.

"No, I didn't think so," replied Gibbs. "We've only just closed the case with the F.B.I. and you know as well as I do, it wasn't an easy one. We've worked long hours this week, not to mention working through last weekend. Added to that your little meltdown on Monday night and I think an early night is definitely called for."

As much as Jenny would have loved to argue, Gibbs was right. It had been a grueling week. Once they'd linked the three bodies to Maryland Heights, it didn't take long to discover the perp had stayed in Harpers Ferry. After a three day joint operation they'd finally, yesterday, tracked him down to an address in Bolivar and had caught him red handed with his next victim. Thankfully the F.B.I. had taken him into custody but it had still been well past two in the morning before they'd stumbled into bed. With the addition of the eight o'clock start that morning, Jenny had to admit she was exhausted.

"OK," she sighed defeatedly. "You win."

Gibbs chuckled softly and carded through the soft strands of hair that fall across her face as he returned his attention to the news report.

When, at 9.30, the lively music of a new reality TV show began, Gibbs picked up the remote. He was surprised when it was yanked out of his hand and the room was suddenly engulfed in silence.

"Forget the TV," said Jenny, placing the remote on the coffee table. "Let's have some fun instead."

As her hand strayed between the buttons of his shirt, Jenny felt the warmth of his skin beneath hers. The hairs on his chest quivered slightly as she gently caressed over each nipple. Kneeling up and straddling his lap, she deftly undid each button and slid the shirt over and down each arm finally removing it all together. With her hands caressing each arm, she leaned forward and took one of his nipples into her mouth. The sound of Gibbs sudden intake of air and the growing hardness she could feel pressing into her lower abdomen sent a wave of passion through Jenny.

Sensing her blouse being pulled free from the waistband of her pants, Jenny sighed as Gibbs' hands snaked under the material, travelled along her ribcage and, finally, around to her back where his experienced fingers made quick work of unsnapping her bra and releasing her breasts from their constraints. In one fluid movement, Gibbs lifted the blouse over her head taking with it the lacy bra and leaving them both naked from the waist up. It was then Gibbs turn to take one of Jenny's nipples into his mouth and the sheer delight of sensation make Jenny moan with pleasure.

"Oh my god," she groaned, leaning back into Gibbs' embrace as he continued to suck on each nipple in turn.

Finally coming up for air, Gibbs nuzzled into her neck saying, "Now, isn't this better than a movie?"

"Oh yeah," moaned Jenny.

"Shall we take this upstairs?" he suggested softly.

"Um…can we try something first?" she asked.

Gibbs pulled back and looked into her eyes.

"Sure. What do you have in mind?"

It was then, he noticed Jenny was blushing.

"What is it?" he asked, his curiosity well and truly sparked.

As her fingernails gently scratched along his chest, Gibbs waited for Jenny to speak. When she hesitated, he placed a hand over hers and said gently, "Do you want me to spank you?"

Jenny blushed again. "Well, yeah, that's a given," she said, laughing slightly. "But, I want a try a new position."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "For sex?"

"No," replied Jenny her face blushing even redder than her hair. "A new spanking position."

"Oh?" said Gibbs, his interest made obvious by the hardness that now struggled to break free of his trousers.

"But first," said Jenny softly, her hands moving down to his belt where they began to undo the buckle. "We need to be naked."

"That's fine with me," replied Gibbs wiggling his eyebrows.

Surprising Jenny with his quick movement, Gibbs placed his hands under Jenny's thighs and stood, taking her with him. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he made short work of unbuckling his belt and removing both his pants and boxers in one movement. Completely naked, Gibbs placed his hands under Jenny's bottom and encouraged her to lower her legs until she stood before him. As her hands moved to her own pants, Gibbs stopped them.

"No," he said throatily. "Removing your clothes is my job."

Undoing the button and zipper, Gibbs locked his thumbs into the waistband and slowly pulled the soft fabric over her hips. As the material pooled at her ankles, Jenny stepped out of the pants and kicked them to one side.

"Now for the best bit," said Gibbs seductively.

Starting at her neck, Gibbs trailed down her body with soft, sensual kisses, over her breasts, rib cage and abdomen until his lips found the outer lace of her panties. Sliding his hands inside the delicate fabric, he pulled gently, following the downward motion with more feather-like kisses to her velvet skin. When the tiny scrap of lace had joined the rest of their clothes, Gibbs stood and stared at her hungrily.

"You might want to move quickly with this new position," he said softly. "Or I may just take you here and now."

Jenny giggled.

"Just hold on for a minute, tiger," she said mischievously. "I promise it will be worth the wait."

Pushing him down until he was, once again, seated on the couch, Gibbs waited as Jenny stood before him. Expecting her to straddle his lap or lay herself across him, he was very surprised when she suddenly turned around and, shuffling backwards, sat on his lap.

"Now," she began. "I'm going tuck my knees up until I am kneeling on the couch either side of your thighs. Then, as I lean forward, I want you to take my legs and pull them out behind me so they are stretched out like a wheelbarrow. As you do that, I'm going to put my hands on the floor in front of me."

Slightly confused, Gibbs followed as Jenny did as she had just explained. When the maneuver was complete, Gibbs was in awe. Directly in front of him was Jenny's upturned backside and, because her legs were straddled either side of his torso, her pussy was completely on display and open to him. It was the most magnificent sight he'd ever seen.

Jenny smiled as she felt Gibbs' cock twitch with excitement. She knew he'd enjoy this position and, knowing she was completely on display to him, only excited her more. No further explanations were needed. Gibbs quickly took command of the situation.

Reaching out his hand, he gently caressed Jenny's gorgeous backside. Starting along her upper thighs, he glided his hands up and over the firm globes making sure his thumbs dipped ever so slightly into her wet folds as they passed over her sex.

Jenny moaned with pure pleasure. Closing her eyes, she savoured each caress, each torturous stoke of his fingers and thumb. As each muscle relaxed under his ministrations she was suddenly caught off guard when his hand crashed down on her right bottom cheek.

Eliciting a surprised squeak, Jenny waited for the next swat. But it didn't come. Instead, Gibbs returned to caressing every inch of her inner thighs and bottom until, just as she, again relaxed under his touch, a second and harder swat landed on her left bottom cheek.

"Oh, that feels fantastic!" she exclaimed hoarsely.

"It's pretty damn fine from where I'm sitting too," remarked Gibbs, his fingers paying extra attention to the slick moistness that jutted out at him.

"Told you you'd enjoy it," she said smugly.

"Hmmm," he murmured softly. Then, landing a hard smack to the centre of her backside, he added, "No need to get cocky, young lady."

Feeling Jenny's hands move under her hips until they grasped his growing erection, Gibbs gasped as he heard Jenny say, "It's not me who's the cocky one."

Not sure he'd be able to last the distance with Jenny's hand squeezing his cock, Gibbs distracted her by quickly peppering her bottom with a dozen hard and fast spanks. It did the trick. Shocked by the sudden sting, Jenny pulled her hand away from him and tried to cover her bottom. Before she could complain, however, he expertly returned to stroking her intimately and smiled when soft moans escaped her beautiful lips instead.

With his mind focused on pleasuring Jenny, Gibbs ran his hand up and along the contours of her back, stroking along the spine and along the curves of her waist. He glided around the front and caressed each breast, tugging at the nipples until they were hard and erect before returning his attentions to her bottom, thighs and pussy.

Over and over his hands explored every inch of her that was displayed. Spanking, stroking, rubbing, caressing until he could feel Jenny begin to tense with anticipation. He played with her then, bringing her to the brink of climax before shocking her with a hard slap to her bottom. Feeling her writhe with frustration, Gibbs alternated between pleasure and pain until, at least, he allowed her the sweet release she so desperately craved. As Jenny shuddered with ecstasy. Gibbs was treated to a wonderful view of seeing her contract and pulsate in front of him. With his own arousal unbearably hard and ready, he hurriedly reached around Jenny's waist and lifted her up and onto the sofa. As he tried to lay her on her back, she stopped him abruptly.

"No," she said breathlessly. "I want you to take me from behind."

Gibbs didn't waste any time arguing. As Jenny turned around and kneeled on the sofa, Gibbs quickly stood behind her and, in one fluid motion, claimed her as his own, entering her swiftly. As he thrust in and out with animal lust, he thought he would die with pleasure. It took every ounce of self-control to wait until Jenny finally exploded before he, too, at last, joined her in climax.

It seemed like eternity before either of them floated back to reality. With senses heightened to the max, they collapsed on the sofa completely exhausted. It was quite some time before the blood began returning to Gibbs' brain. Eventually, he reached out and brushed Jenny's hair away from her face and smiled as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Wow!" It was all he was capable of saying.

"Yeah, wow," repeated Jenny.

Leaning up on one elbow, Gibbs leaned forward and kissed Jenny deeply.

"You ready for bed now?" he asked sleepily.

"Yes," replied Jenny, a sultry grin spreading across her face. "But not to sleep. I'm ready for round two."


End file.
